


Feelings Die

by Smolsized



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: A bad bitch though, Alternate Universe, Angst, Bottom Zayn Malik, Drug Dealing, F/M, Getting Back Together, Liam and Zayn have issues, Liam is no better, Liam speaks Russian, Louis is a bitch, M/M, Past Drug Use, Past Zayn Malik/Liam Payne, Russian Mafia, Underage Sex, Violence, Zayn Malik-centric, Zayn is a mess, because I said so, mobboss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2020-09-19 06:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smolsized/pseuds/Smolsized
Summary: Liam isn't a good guy and Zayn knows this. Fuck he knows it. He's experienced firsthand of how not a good guy Liam can be but it's not like he's going to marry the bastard so what's the harm in messing around, right?





	1. vendetta

**Author's Note:**

> Sooooo I decided to post this on here as well since no one really uses Wattpad anymore and plus I’m on here more anyway.

-

_ **3:40am** _

_ **London,Wolverhampton** _

Idly, Zayn taps his fingers against the steering wheel of his car seemingly anxious. He bites down onto his bottom lip when he finally passes the 'Welcome!' sign that indicates he has entered the small city of Wolverhampton. There's a dull feeling of dread curling tight in his chest, it's been five years since he left and yet this city still has the ability to send his body trembling. Taking in a shaky breath, Zayn grips the steering wheel just a bit tighter almost as if it were a life line. There's some part of him that's screaming to turn around, to just forget the worried call he received from his mother a few hours ago but he can't bring himself to. There was something about her voice, a certain shakiness to it that he couldn't ignore. If there is one thing that Zayn knows about his mother its that the woman doesn't scare easily. For her to call him at 1 am while he's four cities over there has to be something wrong.

There aren't a lot of things that could make him come back to this hell hole of a city, but his family is one. So even though his heart is hammering against his rib cage, and his foot is slowly easing off the gas pedal he continues on.

Rolling his shoulders in an attempt to relax, Zayn gives an exhale of air before his eyes are flickering up to his review mirror. He's got this nagging feeling that he's being followed but whenever he looks there is no one there. Clenching the steering wheel just a bit tighter, Zayn looks back to the road. Overhead the darkened sky gives a small rumble, an indication that a thunder storm is coming soon and of course one is. It's just Zayn's luck that on his first night back in the city it's going to rain. That's another thing Zayn doesn't miss about this fucking shit hole, the constant gloomy atmosphere and nonstop rain. Real fucking buzz kills.

The sound of a police cruiser's sirens giving a small chirp draws Zayn out of his thoughts. When he looks up to his review mirror this time he sees that a police cruiser is now slowly creeping behind him. "Fuck." He hisses to himself before he's huffing a breath and turning the steering wheel slightly so that he can get closer to the curb and park.

Once Zayn parks, the cop car pulls up behind him and parks too. With a deep sigh, Zayn places both his hands on the steering wheel at a ten and two distance before sitting up more in his seat. He tries his best to ignore the fact that he has an unregistered semi automatic handgun tucked into the waistband of his black joggers. Thankfully it isn't long before the cop is rapping his knuckles against Zayn's window in a silent demand for him to roll it down. Slowly Zayn reaches over and does so, "Problem Officer? Was I going too fast?" He questions, not looking at the cop but keeping his head and eyes straight forward ahead. "Actually it's the opposite, you were going under the speed limit. I just wanted to check and make sure things were okay." Comes the officers response. The voice is familiar enough that it has Zayn turning his head to see the owner.

"Holy shit, Zayn?" The officer exclaims in utter disbelief, his pretty green eyes going comically wide as his mouth falls a gap.

Zayn only stares at the man with his eyebrows furrowed and mouth pulled back into a grim line.

"It's me!" The man lets out a small laugh as he leans down against the window to get closer. Zayn only raises an eyebrow, his face scrunching up at the closeness the man is forcing. "Harry, Harry Styles, from high school?" The Officer continues, the small smile on his face beginning to fall.

The name does ring a few bells in Zayn's head. If the man is who he says he is then he has changed, a lot. Zayn only ever knew one Harry Styles in all his time living in Wolverhampton and the last time he saw him, he was a scrawny high school junior with baby fat hanging around the edges of his face, making him look younger than he actually was, with glasses that were too big for his face and fucking shirley temple curls in his head. This man standing before him though, is a wet fucking dream. The man stands at, at least six feet, with lean muscles and wide shoulders.

He's got long brunette locks done up in a loose messy bun on the top of his head and a face structure that almost has Zayn beat.

The kid got hot, Zayn will give him that, and with the way his police uniform is hugging his biceps, Zayn can almost forgets how much he use to annoy him in high school.

"Well you've certainly grown up," Zayn can't help but give a sharp grin, it's as close to genuine he can get. The smile is back on Harry's face at his words. "Right back at you, I mean damn you've changed." The man chuckles, a deep yet rich sound that's a complete contrast to his squeaky high voice from five years ago. Zayn disagrees with the statement, he still looks the same if you asked him. With the exception of a few tattoos and piercings there isn't much about Zayn that has changed. Maybe his eyes have grown a bit more tired and his smiles aren't the same but that's about it. He's still relatively short, a bit skinny but otherwise easy on the eyes.

"So how have you been?" The man asks causally, bringing Zayn's thoughts to a stand still. "I've been fine." He responds after a moment of silence, there's a slight shift in the atmosphere where Zayn can tell his tone sounds clipped and closed off. Harry must sense it too because he backs off a bit, he leans back from the window ever slightly. "That's great to hear man, you just getting back in the city tonight?" He questions and Zayn has to refrain from rolling his eyes. This is exactly what he was hoping to avoid. There's nothing more annoying than when people you could give a flying shit about attempt to make small talk. It's sad really, this poor fuck is still trying to be Zayn's friend, even after years of rejection.

Zayn only nods his head before pursing his lips.

"Cool, Cool." Harry comments awkwardly as he nods to himself. "Hey wait, since you're back in town you should give me your number so we can hangout!" The man exclaims excitedly, green eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. "I'm totally free tomorrow and there's this new fancy restaurant that just opened up last month, I haven't had a chance to check it out yet but I've heard their food is de-fucking-licious." The Officer rambles on and Zayn is beginning to wonder if he has an off button. "I-" Zayn opens his mouth to decline once Harry actually shuts the hell up but he gets cut off. "Nope, if you say no I'll just show up to your mom's place and tell her. She'll make you go." The evil fuck grins lopsidedly as he tilts his head in challenge. Zayn stares at the man blankly for a bit before he's sighing and reaching over into his center console. He digs around a bit, coming across packs of gum and other small miscellaneous items before finally grabbing hold of a pen.

"I could have gave you a pen you know?" Harry slyly comments as he pulls out a notepad from his utility belt and holds it out to Zayn. Zayn snatches the item from the man before uncapping the pen with his teeth and sloppily scribbling down his number. "I don't like to use other people's pens." He responds as he hands the notepad back over to Harry and throws his pen back into the center console. "So we done here?" He raises an eyebrow as he leans close to his steering wheel. Harry only sends him a dimpled grin, "Try to pick up the speed Zayn, I'd hate to give you a ticket for something as silly as going too slow." He says as he takes a few steps back, away from the car. Zayn sends the fucker one last hard glare in return as he moves his shift stick out of park and into drive. Just before he pulls off, Zayn sticks up the middle finger.

He hears a small laugh of "Real classy," before he's peeling off into the night.

-

When he finally pulls up across the street of his mother's house it's about 4:50 in the morning and the street is dark for the most part. He can see that the living room light is on in her house and that the tv is on too but the white blinds block out any other form of light. The neighborhood is quiet, with minimal noises of cars passing by. It's a dead end street so not many people visit anyway. Zayn gives a small sigh before running a hand through his raven locks, further dismantling the already messy quiff it was hastily styled into.

He hasn't seen his mom in person in five years, give or take. Though it's not like he went a whole five years without talking to her, he still called and FaceTimed her nearly every day. But talking to a grainy live feed is different than the real thing.

It was no secret that Zayn loved his family, and if he had to admit it they were the only thing he missed about this city.

After a few more moments of hesitation Zayn finally decides fuck it, reaches to undo his seatbelt and all but climbs out the car.

Over the roof of his car he stares at the house, he doesn't know why but it leaves his stomach turning slightly. Is it guilt? Is it Nostalgia? Whatever the fuck it is, Zayn wants it to stop. He can feel an onslaught of memories flooding at the gates of his mind but he suppresses them all the same.

One small step for man, he thinks to himself as he steps away from the car.

one giant leap for mankind, he adds as an after thought before he's tucking his hands into the pockets of his black Adidas hoodie and walking up to the pathway of the house. It doesn't take him long to reach the front door seeing as the porch only consistent of two stairs and the pathway is pretty short when paired with his long legs. Drawing a breath, Zayn balls his fist and knocks. As he stands at the door waiting about five different scenarios of how this can go down plays in his head, each one worse than the last. He's just about to chicken out and hightail it all the way back to Bradford when the door creeps open slightly.

He barely sees a flash of black hair before he's being engulfed in a hug.

"God Zayn, I told you to call me once you got back in the city." His mother, Trisha, breaths quiet but heavily into his neck as she squeezes him tightly. "Sorry Ma, I forgot." He apologizes wrapping his own arms around the woman.

The woman shakes in his hold ever slightly, a very subtle motion that would have normally gone unnoticed if Zayn wasn't already aware that she was frightened. "You had me so worried." She whispers around an intake of air. "I'm sorry." He mumbles again, bringing his chin to rest on her shoulder. "What happened?" He questions, voice soft and coaxing. At the question she pulls away from the hug and stands before him looking anxious.

Zayn can't help but think she looks smaller than the last time he saw her and not in the 'oh I'm taller than you now, mom' way but in a way that seems forced. It's like she's trying to make herself small,"You should come in," she says opening the door slightly wider, a shaky smile gracing her lips.

It's the only indication that Zayn needs to know they're being watched.

Nodding his head, Zayn makes a show of smiling, "I can't believe you stayed up this late just to see me." He says speaking just a bit louder than their first hushed conversation only a few seconds ago, in hopes of making his presence back home seem innocent. His mother gives a fake chuckle, "Of course I did, now get in here before it starts raining and you catch a cold." She scolds but it's mostly an act. As instructed Zayn slips past her and into the house.

She's just closing the door when Zayn speaks again. "How many?" He asks as his eyes track over to the sealed blinds covering the wind. "Two, maybe three. I can't be sure." She responds instantly as if she had been expecting the question all along. "Did you see what they look like? What they were wearing?" Zayn questions with a frown as he edges closer to the window and peaks out the blinds subtly. "No, I didn't see them. Waliyha brought it to my attention that they were watching the house." The woman says shaking her head as she begins to pace. Zayn opens his mouth to speak when the sound of wooden floors creaking catches both his mother's and his own attention. Reflexively Zayn's hand flies to his hip to take hold of the gun that's been tucked into the waistband of his joggers and boxer briefs.

"Whoa, chill!" Waliyha shouts from where she has just exited the kitchen and entered the living-room, raising her hands in surrender. Zayn huffs a breath before his hand falls from his hip.

"Is there any other indication that someone is threatening us?" He continues on with what he was going to say before Waliyha interrupted. "There was a letter addressed to you, hold on I left it in the kitchen." Trisha responds before she's heading off in the direction of the kitchen.

Once she's gone Zayn actually begins to look around the living room. It has changed quite a bit since he last saw it. The once beige walls are now painted a moody blue color accompanied by a black leather sectional. He's glad to see that the money he's been sending is going to good use. There are still pictures from his childhood hanging on the walls, with maybe a few additional photos added to boot. The once tacky wooden entertainment center is gone and in its place is a heavy marble console table. The sight gives Zayn pause because while he has been sending his mom a decent sum of money he hasn't been sending enough money for something like this and to pay the bills. The thing looks like it has actually been craved out of marble. "Hey mom, this is a really nice table. How much you pay for it?" He calls out loud enough for her to hear even all the way in the kitchen.

"Liam bought it." Waliyha answers for her.

The name alone is enough to send Zayn's blood boiling. Almost as if summoned by Zayn's new found discomfort, Trisha is back with a black envelope in hand. "What did you say sweetie?" She asks and Zayn looks to her with a slight glare. "So, we're accepting gifts from Liam now?" He asks, tilting his head slightly. Trisha only lets out a sigh at her son, "I don't see the problem with it, just because you two aren't together anymore doesn't mean he has to stop all contact with us." Is the response she chooses to go with. Zayn wants to laugh in her face, if only she knew. "His money is blood money, ma." Zayn counters with a clenched jaw. "And yours isn't?" She raises an eyebrow. "I-it's different." Zayn argues but it's no use because his mother doesn't seem to be budging.

After a tense moment passes with his mother not saying anything and only continuing to stare at him with a raised eyebrow, Zayn lets out a huff before he's taking the envelope.

The envelope is slightly crumbled as if it had been carelessly tucked away somewhere previously, knowing his mother it probably has. Written rather sloppily on the front of the envelope in red ink is Zayn's name. The seal of the envelope has already been broken indicating that his mother has already seen what was inside. Briefly Zayn glances back to her only to see that her face has paled slightly. Slowly, he pulls the letter out, there's something else inside as well. The item is small but weighs down heavily in the envelope. Zayn unfolds the letter first and begins to read.

'Это война' are the only words scribbled largely on the paper.

It's obvious that who ever wrote the letter didn't know how to correctly write the Russian letters but it's a message within itself. They know he knows Russian and they know what the Russian language means to him.

"What does it say? I couldn't make sense of it." His mother says from where she has moved to look at the piece of paper over his shoulder. "It's Russian for 'this is war' or at least something close to it." Zayn shakes his head as he folds the paper back up and begins to pull out the envelope's other contents.

To his surprise he pulls out a necklace.

It's a pretty basic one, nothing more than just a string and metal base. But Zayn has seen this necklace before, he just can't fucking remember where. Furrowing his eyebrows Zayn stares at the necklace long and hard. The black initial M glares back at him tauntingly.

It registers a bit too late who the necklace belongs to and before anyone can even ask him what's wrong he's letting out a loud "fuck" while he hastily reaches for his phone. His mother stares at him with concerned eyes as Waliyha stares with scared eyes of her own. His fingers fly across the keyboard as he dials a number.

It rings and it rings before finally a deep voice answers. "What the fuck Zayn? Do you know what time it is?" The voice groans tiredly on the other end. "Listen Diego," Zayn hisses in a tone of voice that leaves no room for argument. Diego falls silent almost immediately at hearing the tone. "When was the last time you saw the twins?" Zayn questions, referring to the man's younger set of twin siblings. "I just talked to Javi around one or two." Diego says after a moment of shuffling on his end. "What about Mila?" Zayn quickly questions next. "Haven't talked to her today, why? What's going on?" Diego asks, worry beginning to become apparent in his voice.

"Look, I just need for you to stop by her dorm or call her roommate or something. I'll fill you in later." Zayn tells him sternly, once again leaving no room for argument. He receives a small Okay before the call is ended.

"Is everything okay?" Waliyha asks with a small frown. Zayn forces a smile onto his face, "It's nothing you should be worried about, go on and get to bed." He tells her softly. She looks unconvinced but slowly leaves the room nevertheless. Once he's sure she has left and is completely out of ear shot he turns to his mother. "If this is what I think it is, shit is going to hit the fan and real soon. Are you prepared for this?" He asks as he fiddles with the necklace. His mother swallows hard at the question but nods her head nevertheless. "Now we wait." He sighs before he's taking a seat on the leather sectional.

Ten minutes go past before Zayn's phone is ringing with a call from Diego, he doesn't hesitate in answering. "Fuck Zayn, I'm at her dorm and there's so much blood. I- I think her roommate is dead but Mila isn't here." Diego breathes shakily into the phone. "Fuck." Zayn whispers to himself as he squeezes his eyes closed. On the other end there is shuffling, like Diego is searching for something hastily. "I can't fucking find her!" He shouts panicked as something shatters in the background. "Diego you need to calm-" Zayn attempts to calm the man down but gets cut off. "My fucking baby sister is missing pendejo, don't tell me to calm down." Diego hisses back aggressively. Zayn remains silent on his end. "Who the fuck did this?" Diego all but growls as another item shatters in the background.

"I'm not sure yet." Zayn responds looking at his mother worriedly, it's only a matter of time before they attack his family too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we will go further into depth about Zayn and Liam's past relationship and it even includes Liam, so stay tuned!!


	2. little dove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn has a serious conversation with his mother that brings up some past turmoil he’s been avoiding before his dinner date with Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start I would just like to state that everything I know about the Russian language is strictly from google translate lol so if you're a native Russian speaker please don't bash me.

-

** _2:03 pm_ **

** _London, Wolverhampton_ **

Tiredly, Zayn blinks open his eyes. The first sight to greet him happens to be the plain white ceiling fan that hangs dangerously above him. His eyes sting slightly, he can tell they're bloodshot, and what he's feeling is definitely a migraine coming on. The man had spent a better half of the night calling in some favors he had with local police officials (or with anyone back in Bradford really) to get some leads on Mila. So far every trail that they thought they had has gone cold, Mila is still missing without so much as a trace other than the necklace Zayn received. They still have no idea who took her or who has his mother's house being watched which only goes to show how good these people are, he has a funny feeling that he won't know who it is until _they want him_ to know. He can't help but feel like a sitting duck knowing this. There's nothing he can do all the way in Wolverhampton and he knows that if he leaves the city they'll make a move on his family too. It's obvious, who ever they are they aren't playing any games and Zayn isn't in the mood to chance it.

With a stressed groan, Zayn rubs his face with his hands. He's gotten two hours of sleep at the most and his old twin sized bed isn't helping much. He lets out a yawn shortly after, his hands traveling from his face to brush his hair back. Rather slowly he sits up in bed and stretches out his arms and legs. For his efforts he's awarded a few satisfying cracks.

Once he's done stretching, he goes into a still state for a moment. He doesn't do anything other than stare at, or rather through, the bedroom door with vacant eyes. As the seconds tick by he can feel the gears of his mind slowly beginning to turn back on.

It's a common occurrence for him when he first wakes up. It's only natural that he spaces out from time to time seeing as it gives him time to collect himself.

After a few more minutes of just staring at the door he finally manages to break the stare with a hard blink.

He comes back to himself feeling a bit dazed and lightheaded. With a small shake of his head he climbs out of the twin sized bed and of course nearly brains himself on the wooden computer desk that's right next to it after tripping over his discarded shoes from the previous night. The raven haired man lets out a string of curses as he kicks the pair shoes even though he has no one to blame but himself. Outside his door he hears stifled laughter and it has him hurling a glare in the direction of it. He only glares at the door for a second before he's moving to open it. To his surprise no one is behind it when he flings it open.

Instead, the laughter is coming from down the hall in the direction of the kitchen. With furrowed brows Zayn steps out of the bedroom and into the hallway before he's making his way to the kitchen.

Inside he finds Waliyha sitting at the worn out kitchen table that has been tucked away in one of the many corners of the kitchen with her MacBook open in front of her but what shocks Zayn the most is the sight of their oldest sister Doniya standing at the kitchen sink doing the dishes. She looks just like she had the last time he saw her, just a bit more _grown_, if that makes sense. Her brunette hair is done up in a high ponytail with the bleached tips brushing just past her shoulders. She's dressed in a white blouse and black blazer with a black pencil skirt to match. She must have come straight from work, judging by her attire. Almost as if just noticing his presence, Doniya turns slightly, as if to catch a glimpse of him. "Well good afternoon to you too, sleeping beauty." She teases with a certain softness to her eyes that everyone else around him seems to lack. Zayn can't even stop himself as his feet gravitate towards her and before long he's wrapping his arms around her, embracing her in a bruisingly tight hug. Seeing her makes him feel like he can breathe a bit easier.

He had been so worried last night when the woman hadn't returned neither his nor their mother's frantic calls, but to be fair it had been around three—maybe four in the morning.

Just as tight, Doniya wraps her arms around him, pulling him impossibly close but still being mindful of her wet hands. "I missed you little brother." She says softly into his shoulder. He only responds with a soft murmur of 'I missed you too' before they're both pulling apart. At the kitchen table Waliyha gives a loud scoff, catching the attention of both her siblings. "Really? All I get is you telling me to go back to sleep but she gets the life hugged out of her? Huh, can you say favoritism?" Waliyha huffs But there's nothing in her tone that indicates those are her true feelings. Zayn sends the girl a small smirk, "You jealous, Wally?" He teases as he slowly begins inching towards her. "No, I'm just saying." Waliyha responds raising her hands seemingly in surrender but it's too late, Zayn's close enough to pounce on her and so he does.

The man grabs ahold of the side of her face before he's peppering her in both sloppy and wet kisses all over. Waliyha shrieks in disgust as she attempts to get away from him, only managing to fall out of her chair in the process. Doniya lets out a loud laugh at the two, Waliyha only sends them both a heated glare. Zayn can't help but laugh also, "I love you too, Wally." He draws out teasingly. Waliyha only continues to glare at him from her new seat on the ground but he can see the beginnings of a smile turning up around the corners of her lips. There's a moment of silence once Zayn and Doniya finally manage to stop laughing, a moment where all three siblings stare at one another before all bursting into a fit of laughter. They laugh hard, with their shoulders shaking and tears beginning to brim the corners of their eyes.

It's just like when they were kids.

Though this time around the laughter is cut short by the sound of a soft thud and scraping noise coming from the basement door that's just at the back of the kitchen. Of course Zayn's mind immediately thinks the worse and he's regretting leaving his gun. Almost as if she can sense his internal panic Doniya speaks up, "It's just mom, she was washing a load of clothes." She explains just as their mother opens the basement door and moves to lug the overflowing basket of clean clothes up the remaining stairs. Zayn immediately moves to help, taking the basket from her all together and dragging it further in the kitchen. The woman lets out a huff of breath, bringing her hands to rest on her hips. "Thank you, I was just about ready to fall down the stairs." She says jokingly before she's stepping up the rest of the stairs and is closing the basement door. Zayn lets out a small chuckle, "It's no problem ma," he brushes off before he's shooting Waliyha a glare.

The girl only responds with a glare of her own. "Why do you have mom washing clothes when your legs work just fine?" He questions staring the girl down. Waliyha quirks an eyebrow at this, "Have you talked to our mother? Trying to help her is like trying to help a rock, a very fussy rock." She responds rolling her eyes. Zayn turns back to his mother only to find the woman rolling her own eyes at him and waving a dismissive hand. "Please Zayn, I'm not _that_ old. I can still carry a couple of baskets of clothes up some stairs." She huffs before she's dragging the basket over to the kitchen table and already beginning to take some clothes out so she can fold them. "So is there any updates?" His mother asks and Zayn sighs before he's leaning his back against the counter.

He shakes his head in defeat. "That's alright baby, you tried your best and that's what counts." His mother reminds with a gentle tone. Zayn only shakes his head again, "Trying my best doesn't mean shit when someone's life is on the line." He mumbles in a tone that almost sounds bitter, he receives a small glare from Doniya at his choice of language. "Watch your mouth." She reminds because she knows their mother won't say it. Zayn rolls his eyes at the girl, typical. There's a long beat of silence as his mother goes about folding and Waliyha continues to tap away on her laptop.

Finally after the silence grows nearly unbearable his mother speaks up. "Why don't you try some other sources? You know Liam has some police friends, maybe if you ask him he'll—" The woman doesn't even get a chance to finish before he's cutting her off with a loud snort, "Sounds unrealistic but okay." He says shaking his head as he pushes off the counter before making his way over to the refrigerator to take out a bottle of water. The older woman huffs a breath of annoyance as she sets down the tee-shirt she had been folding and places her hands on her hips. "Now you stop that, Liam is a good boy and I get that things didn't end well for you two, trust me, I get it," She begins and Zayn feels a rant coming on so he cracks the bottle open and takes a swing as he waits. "I was there after the break up and I saw how you were, but you've got to realize that he isn't a bad guy and would still do anything for you." She finishes and Zayn has to swallow around the sour taste that her words leave in his mouth. He clenches his fist at his side and sets his jaw as he bites back the words he wants so badly to say. _You didn't **see** me after the break up, you didn't see my blood stained fingers that didn't stop trembling the whole night, you didn't see me crying—no sobbing in the dark alleyway as I clutched a warm body that only grew cold as the minutes ticked by close my chest—so close I had hoped it would— _The train of thought is cut short by a gentle hand being pressed to his back. When he turns to see who it is he realizes that it's Doniya peering at him with intense worried eyes.

"You okay?" She asks softly, and fuck he spaced out. Zayn can only manage a tight lipped smile as he nods his head. "I'm fine." He lies straight through his teeth. When he looks to his mother she's also shooting him a worried look and he hates it. Before either of the two woman can speak again Zayn is setting his water bottle down, "I'm gonna go lie down for a bit, I'm tired." He says plainly and it's not a lie, he is tired and is going for a nap. He exits the kitchen but not before his mother is calling after him. "If you really want to find that girl, ask him for help Zayn!" She shouts after his retreating form. And the sour taste in his mouth is back once again.

_You didn't see me after the break up, you saw who I wanted you to see._

-

** _7:45 pm_ **

** _London, Wolverhampton_ **

Zayn feels out of place as soon as he steps inside the restaurant. Against his better judgment Zayn decided to reach out to Harry for help, better him than Liam. The place is just as Harry had said it was; fancy. Even the hostess was dressed more classy than him. If not for his white button down shirt he isn't sure that the lady would've let him in at all. The restaurant itself was, for a lack of better word, intimating. The interior design alone probably cost more than his mother's house and his own car put together. Probably based on his expression, the hostess must be able to sense his feelings seeing as she smiles warily before asking for his reservation. As soon as the name Harry Styles is out his mouth the hostess's entire demeanor switches, her smile momentarily twitches and a flicker of fear glazes over her crystal blue eyes.

"Ah, of course. Right this way sir." She speaks in a soft tone before turning away from the podium and beginning the way towards Harry's table.

As they make their way through the restaurant Zayn can't help but notice how it's dimly lit, even with expensive chandelier lights strung up overhead, probably on a low setting to achieve the dim atmosphere. They pass several circular tables with pristine white table cloths covering them, they are all set close to one another but also far enough that there is room to walk down the aisle ways. Each table has a candle in the center of it and it's also accompanied by a small vase of red roses. The woman leads him all the way to the back of the restaurant where a velvet rope separates a single table from the rest of the others. He spots Harry instantly and if Harry hadn't also spotted him right back at the same time he would have turned around and began walking right back to his car, because at the table Harry isn't alone. Seated in the booth directly next to him is none other than _Louis Tomlinson-Payne_. The hostess notices his hesitation and promptly grows worried, "Is there a problem sir?" She asks and since they're close enough to the table now her words gain the attention of Louis.

Almost as if in slow motion, sea green eyes size him up before a sultry grin stretches across Louis' stupid face. _You can handle this, you're a big boy_, Zayn thinks to himself. Rolling his shoulders and taking a breath he shakes his head at the woman, "No, there is no problem." He speaks up. The hostess nods her head before undoing the rope allowing him access. He steps past, watching her redo the rope with a whisper of "I'll be back momentarily." before she's off. With a small exhale of air Zayn makes it over to the table. He slides into the booth that's across from the pair.

"You were right Harry, he certainly has grown up." Louis all but purrs in his smooth Russian accent, it's gotten heavier Zayn notices. Zayn stares on at the boy clearly unimpressed. "When you invited me to dinner it would have been nice if you could have mentioned that my ex's baby brother would be tagging along." Zayn says calmly as he picks up the menu that has been set in front of him and he begins to scan the items listed. He doesn't know what half the dishes listed are but they're all extremely expensive, it's a good thing he planned on making Harry pay for the entire thing. When he looks back up Louis is glaring holes into his face, this only prompts a raised eyebrow from himself. He knows that Louis hates to be referred to as Liam's baby brother, that he hates to be referred to as anything under Liam really. But that's exactly what he is. He's under Liam, is and will always be.

"I'm so sorry Zayn, I swear I only told him you were in the city and he just kinda found out about us having dinner tonight." Harry tries to explain with pleading wide eyes. Zayn only rolls his own. "Don't plead Harry, really, it's pathetic." Zayn tells the boy before he's placing his menu back down in front of himself. "So Louis, how have you been?" He asks to be polite, but to be quite frank he could give a fuck what Louis has been up to these past years, their friendship ended when Zayn left and he's not looking to rekindle that old flame. Now it's Louis' turn to roll his eyes, "Why waste my time answering a question we both know you don't care about the answer to." The boy responds and Zayn has to bite back a small smirk. He still knows him so well. There's a moment of silence after that until Harry is awkwardly clearing his throat, "I hadn't expected you to show up." He says as if the statement was an icebreaker.

"I wasn't going to at first," Zayn begins truthfully, because what's the point in lying? "But I need a favor from you." He says after finally swallowing his pride but before he can further elaborate the hostess who also happens to be playing waitresses apparently is back. "Hi, I apologize for the wait, what can I get you all?" She flashes a small nervous smile as she pulls out a notepad and pen from her apron. "Hello and it's completely fine," Harry reassures with a dimpled smile promptly earning a blush from the waitress. "I'll have a glass of red wine and the stuffed Rigatoni." He adds once he sees that she's prepared to take the orders. From beside him Louis rolls his eyes, "I'll take a glass of red wine as well with the Wagyu Ribeye." He tells the girl dryly as he sends her a cold look. When she looks to Zayn the man is a bit caught off guard because he isn't sure what he wants, "Um, do you guys have any stake?" He finds himself asking.

The woman frowns at the question but nods her head at the statement nevertheless. Zayn claps his hands together, "Great, that's what I want. A 6-ounce well done stake with a glass of water." He nods. The woman sends Harry an unsure glance but leaves once he nods his head at her. Zayn huffs a breath once the woman is gone, "What was that about?" He frowns because why the hell did she look to Harry as if to confirm his order was okay? Like yeah, sure, he's making Harry pay for it but it's not like she knew that. Both Louis and Harry seem to find the question amusing seeing as they laugh quietly amongst themselves. "Zayn there are like six different kinds of stake on the menu." Harry finally explains after he manages to calm down.

Zayn only rolls his eyes, "That's stupid." He shake his head as Harry continues to chuckle. "We would have been better off at the Burger joint by our old high school." Zayn remarks before allowing his gaze to sweep over Harry and Louis's choice of clothing tonight. Harry is dressed in a long sleeved black button down shirt, probably from Channel, with a pair of black slacks to match. Louis on the other hand is dressed in a black saint turtleneck with his gold cross hanging proudly against his neck on display, Zayn can't see the boy's pants from where he's sitting but he bets the twenty dollars in his back pocket that they're ill-fitted, probably clinging to his curves in a way that challenges you to stare. "Or at least _**I**_ would have been better off." He corrects himself. Harry seems to find this amusing seeing as he leans forward in his seat, a grin etched across his face, "And to think back in High School you were known for only enjoying the finer things in life." He attempts to tease but Zayn just feels plain uncomfortable because it feels more like he's saying 'back when you were dating Liam' and yes, okay, Zayn understands that, that isn't even remotely close to what Harry actually said but his brain is stupid and has to relate every small thing from his past to Liam.

"Well I'm not like that anymore, people change, I'm a simple man now." Zayn tries to shrug it off but the damage is done. Louis lets out a breathless scoff at his words and he rolls his eyes once again tonight, (Zayn hopes they get stuck) as if he can't believe Zayn said something so—_so_—poor. Zayn is nearly tempted to remind the boy of his own rags to riches backstory, of how his two adoptive parents came to Wolverhampton with just him and his brother and nothing more than the clothes on their back. Maybe it would humble the asshole a bit. Sadly, before he can call the entitled brat out Harry is clearing his throat awkwardly as if just now realizing that his little attempt at reminiscing had backfired. "So, you said you needed a favor." He circles back to the initial statement. _Finally_, Zayn thinks to himself. He opens his mouth to speak but a voice cuts him off.

"Harry, _moy droog_. Louis, _moy brat_." The voice calls in greeting from behind Zayn. Zayn freezes, his shoulders tense and jaw clenches. Fuck, he knows that voice.

"You both know I hate not knowing what's going on in my city, and yet, you keep a secret from me." The man says before sliding into the booth with Zayn.

Slowly Zayn turns his head to meet the stare of none other than Liam Payne.

"Hello, _golub malenkiy_." Liam greets him with that stupid fucking smile of his, that stupid smile that's the reason he's the mess he is now.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: tHeRe wIlL bE iNtEraCtIoN bEtWeEn lIaM aNd zAyN.  
Also me: lol, Liam's just gonna say hi and imma end this shit.  
On another note, if you're wondering what Liam called Zayn, he called him little dove. Hence the title of this chapter ;).


	3. don’t get high on your own supply

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn is forced to face his ex and deal with 5 years of the emotional turmoil that only Liam Tomlinson-Payne can provide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> super sorry this took so long, it's just I get really bad performance anxiety right before shit is about to go down in my stories and I kinda chicken out because I don't want to disappoint anyone lol
> 
> Update: I know I said I'd try to have it updated by Friday but look, I have school and a job, and life is just tough in general rn

** _9:30pm_ **

** _London, Wolverhampton_ **

Seeing Liam again feels like a hard punch to the gut.

All the _anger_ and _pain_ that he has bottled up over the past five years makes little to no effort to resurface and rear it's ugly head as he had always expected it to when he finally came face to face with Liam again. All the words he had planned to say, all the conversations he imagined in his head have all but vanished in the time he truly needs them most. And Liam—god, he's sitting so close to him, _so fucking close_, that he can smell the man's aftershave and expensive cologne. It's a pleasant smell that just does all kinds of funny shit to his head. And Zayn will admit, Liam looks just as good as he smells. His face is freshly shaven yet a five o'clock shadow lingers, his hair styled back in the way that Zayn use to like, he's wearing a shirt similar to Harry's; a black button down with the only difference being it's silk and paired with a black blazer. _He's too close_, Zayn's mind unhelpfully supplies as if he can't see that.

He has half a mind to climb over both Louis and Harry's lap if only to slip out of the booth all together and escape this nightmare of a dinner. But he can't bring himself to move, he feels froze in his seat. After a bit of silence, of Liam just fucking staring at him with those stupid brown eyes of his (that carry far too much weight) Zayn snaps out of it. "Don't call me that." He snaps harshly before fixing the man with a glare and if the restaurant weren't quiet before it sure is now. The few stragglers that had already been inside the restaurant prior to Liam arriving have fallen into an obvious silence as they all but gawk at their table with baited breaths. It's almost as if they're all expecting Liam to whip out a gun and shoot Zayn in the chest.

If he's being honest, Zayn is kind of hoping for it at this point, anything to put him out of his misery.

Liam chuckles softly at his words and irritation courses hot in his veins. What did he say that was funny? Almost abruptly, Zayn begins scooting closer to Louis and moves to start crawling over both him and Harry, dignity be damned. "Thanks for the dinner invite Harry, really, the first two seconds were an absolute delight but next time you run into me, kindly fuck off." Zayn rattles off absently as he climbs halfway over Louis, prompting a small unexpected gasp from the young man. He's almost completely out of Louis' lap when fingers loop their way into the waistband of his slacks before forcing him back, earning a yelp from Zayn. And just like that he's right back in his seat beside Liam.

"Please, don't insult me _kotenok_." Liam begins in his smooth tone of voice, the one that use to make Zayn _weak_. Somethings just don't change, huh? Zayn thinks bitterly to himself as he fights back a small shiver. "You haven't eaten yet." The man adds shortly after with a motion towards the empty table cloth in front of him and just like before a switch goes off, Zayn manages to weasel himself free of the _Liam spell_ once more tonight. "I no longer have an appetite." He blurts dumbly and there's a moment of silence where he thinks that Liam may have actually believed him before the man bursts out with laughter. And yes, okay, Zayn gets it, he's a _bad_ liar, but this is completely unnecessary.

Zayn can't help the flush that rises to his cheeks at being laughed at, he doesn't appreciate it thank you very much. "Always the comedian I see." Liam comments once he manages to stop laughing and Zayn wants oh so badly to take one of the bread sticks on the table and to just shove it down Liam's throat until he chokes.

And—Oh.

Looks like that anger did make an appearance.

"I don't have time for this, I said I'm not hungry anymore." Zayn hisses and moves to begin climbing over Louis and Harry again but this time around Liam isn't so gentle nor patient as he yanks Zayn right back down into his seat for a second time. When Zayn turns to face him, ready to tell him off he notices the stern look on Liam's face immediately and while the look itself doesn't necessarily scary him the implication of it does. Liam isn't playing around anymore.

And Zayn knows when Liam goes all stone face and stiff shoulders someone is about to lose their fucking life.

But it won't be him, at least not tonight.

So Zayn settles. He doesn't make any further attempts to escape. He sets his jaw, bites his tongue, clenches his fist at his side, and he accepts his fate. It's not like he can do anything more.

Tension flows freely at the table, the atmosphere heavier than a newly opened restaurant had any business being. Silence draws on until finally Harry clears his throat. "Just to be clear, I didn't keep this a secret. I just may have failed to mention it." The green eyed bloke shrugs earning an unamused look from Liam. The man in question only narrows his eyes and purses his lips, "So what you're saying is, it's not considered a secret because you only forgot to tell me?" Liam questions back and Harry gives a small grimace before he's nodding his head. "Alright, so hypothetically speaking, say I decided to follow you home tonight and I ended up putting a bullet in your skull but forgot to inform the police of my actions, would it still be considered murder?" He quirks an eyebrow and it sounds more like a threat than a question.

Harry seems to pick up on the underlying threat as well seeing as he goes paler than a sheet. "I-" He begins in a wavering tone but Liam interrupts him with a small bout of laughter as a smile breaks out on his face. "I'm just fucking with you, Harry." He cackles and the sound unsettles something inside of Zayn that makes him even more uncomfortable. He doesn't know what it is but something about the laugh just feels—_off_. "You know the most I'd do to you is maim you, you're practically blood Harry." Liam adds shortly after and Zayn is quickly reminded of how in high school Harry was very much, for lack of better word, Liam's bitch.

It was stupid of him to think things would change much, at least not with the way Harry had all but worshipped the ground Liam walked on. That kind of devotion didn't just go away in a span of eight years.

He looks to Harry, unsure of what exactly he was expecting to find but isn't too surprised when he finds the man forcing a smile. Though the shakiness at the corners of his lips catches him off guard. It wouldn't take a genius to know that he's scared of Liam and huh, that's new. Zayn has seen many faces pale in the presence of Liam, he has seen many people cower back in fear, has seen some force shaky smiles to grace their lips at a threatening joke and he has seen many advert their gaze in a show of fear and respect but never has he seen one of Liam's own or at least his top tier men do it. He wonders just how much Liam has changed within the past five years when he notices even Louis looks a bit off foot and Liam is his fucking brother. That's saying something in itself.

Zayn doesn't realize that he's been lost in thought for a few minutes until he manages to snap out of it and all eyes at the table have shifted to him, including Liam's. He swallows harder than necessary, this was exactly what he was hoping to avoid, but he turns his gaze to meet Liam's head on anyway. "So Zayn, how has Bradford been treatin' ya?" The man questions, in a mocking tone of a Bradford accent. Zayn can't help the slight twitch of his eye, how the fuck does he know where Zayn moved to? Almost as if he could read Zayn's mind Liam gives a rough chuckle, "Your mom and I, we talk a bit." He shrugs causally as if it were nothing, as if he weren't the sole reason alone why he left in the first place.

Zayn feels sick, like he just might throw up with the way Liam's words has his stomach turning. He knew where he was the whole time. There's anger boiling just below the surface, he's pissed with his mother although he knows it's not her fault. Maybe if he had told her the truth instead of the little half truths he had been spewing because he thought they were sparing her feelings he wouldn't be in this situation. Maybe if he told her the truth he wouldn't be facing Liam right now. Though even if that were the case, it's too late now. There's no point in living in what if's and maybe's.

"Fine." He finally builds the mental capacity to respond to the question. "Really? Huh. Never thought of you as someone to settle for less." Liam responds and before Zayn can question it the man continues, "Always pictured you becomingthis brilliant artist who lives in a glass penthouse or some shit with weird paintings and decor littering the place. Guess I was wrong, because it seems you've settled with being a lowly drug dealer and living in a shitty apartment that barely has four walls, an apartment in _Bradford_." Liam can't help but laugh at the last bit as he shakes his head, and Zayn doesn't think he's ever heard a laugh sound so cruel in his life. "I settled for you at one point in time, didn't I?" Zayn shoots back in a tone that sounds just plain bitter. Even with Zayn's harsh words Liam's smile never seems to falter. It's almost as if that's exactly what he wanted to hear. For some reason, that only pisses Zayn off even more.

Not too far away, Louis clears his throat. "I'm gonna head to the bathroom, Harry come." He announces to the table as both he and Harry waste no time in scooting out their side of the booth.

And it's just what Zayn needed. To be left alone with Liam.

The pair sit in silence after the departure of Louis and Harry. Liam is still staring at Zayn with this twinkle of amusement in his eyes that leave Zayn wanting to snap. "That's cute, real cute." The man chuckles with another shake of his head. Zayn doesn't seem to find the same sentiment seeing as he only keeps a straight face before bravely leaning into Liam's space with a threatening glare. "What the fuck do you want from me? Why are you keeping tabs on me?" He hisses at the man, eyebrows set in anger and lips pulled back in a slight snarl. Liam only smirks in his face, the bastard.

"_Pochemu tak rasstroyena moya lyubov_?" Liam questions almost cheekily. "Fuck you, you know why I'm upset!" Zayn doesn't mean to yell but he does and the restaurant seemingly falls dead silent. "You've been fucking stalking me for how long now? Since I moved? And now you show up here, knowing damn well you're the last person I want to see." He adds with a growl but Liam doesn't waver. He only blinks at him, completely unaffected by the man's words.

"You've changed," Liam notes out-loud before he's leaning closer into Zayn's space as well, so close that their noses are practically brushing against one another. "Yet, you're still exactly the same." He adds, his hand coming up to gently hold Zayn's jaw. The man caresses his cheek softly and the touch alone admits a shiver from Zayn before he's forcing himself away from Liam. "You obviously don't know anything about me anymore." Zayn responds with a tensed jaw. Thankfully the sound of the waitress clearing her throat diverts both their attention.

"Um the stuffed Rigatoni and 6 ounce Sirloin steak?" She manages out as her eyes nervously shift over to where Liam sits, the man in question staring at her rather open and uncaringly. Zayn nods his head, "6 ounce steak." He confirms and takes the plate as she hands it over. "Erm—sir is there anything I can get you?" The woman asks Liam almost hesitantly as she sets the second plate down on the table where Harry had been sitting. Liam shakes his head before giving pause, "Actually yes, can I please have a glass of your Pinot Noir wine?" He asks earning a scared nod from the woman before she's off to retrieve the request. "Surely you haven't changed much, I still see you falling back into old habits. Haven't you learned by now? Don't get high on your own supply." Liam shakes his head in fake disapproval but his words are taunting, he's daring Zayn to break. And if there's one thing Zayn absolutely despises more than being watched it's having all his insecurities laid out for people to view and probe. Liam knew that his struggle with addiction was one of those things he held on his sleeves. Finally deciding he's had enough Zayn hits the table with the palm of his trembling hand, "Fuck you Liam, fuck you." He snaps, but it's effectiveness is ruined by the wavering of his tone, before he's sliding out of the booth on the now empty side.

He storms through the restaurant, passing other occupants who stare in surprise at the commotion while he walks down the aisles at a quick pace. He all but slams out the door of the restaurant, reaching outside in record time. The chill nights air feels good against his face and has him calming down a bit. Though that doesn't last long before a hand grabs a fist full of his shirt and yanks him to the side.

His back hits the brick wall of the restaurant's alleyway and there Liam is, crowding into his space. Zayn pants slightly, the wind having been knocked right out of his lungs upon hitting the set of hard bricks. He glares at Liam, his anger returning in a flash every part of his body beginning to shake. Who the fuck did he think he was? Grabbing Zayn like he did. Like he had some fucking claim to him.

"I didn't say you could go." Is what Liam says to him, his brown eyes clouded over with something dark. Zayn momentarily feels a flood of fear wash over him but it doesn't last long seeing as he's too mad to care. "Fuck you!" He spits the words in Liam's face as if they were venom, hoping Liam would drop dead right here and now. He's only rewarded with a sharp pain of a brick that had been jolting out of place stabbing him in the back as Liam only presses him against the wall harder for his bravery. "You know I'd much rather fuck you instead." Liam quips back. Zayn scoffs loudly at the implication, "As if I'd ever let you tou—" his words are swallowed whole by Liam's mouth pressing against his own.

He freezes in surprise, having not expected the onslaught of warm lips to be pressed so harshly against his own. For a moment, just a moment, he forgets himself and melts into the kiss. Liam's lips taste bittersweet, like they're something he shouldn't taste but he does anyway. His head aches and his chest contracts painfully as he moves his own lips against Liam's. He feels wrong and disgusted with himself for liking it so much, he shouldn't still feel this way. Not about _him_.

Zayn can the warm swell of tears build in his eyes as he kisses Liam back with a sense of urgency. He feels torn, unsure if he wanted to pull Liam closer or push him away altogether. Though he guesses Liam was right, he does settle because he doesn't even fight when Liam places a hand against his hip to still him and deepen the kiss.

He simply takes whatever Liam offers with a choked off sob when the man purposely licks at his lips for an entrance, as he opens his mouth to allow him access he feels a bit of himself that he has worked so hard to persevere over the past five years crumble in a matter of seconds. He hates the way Liam makes him feel, he hates the affect he has on him. How he can make him so fucking angry at times but then solve everything with a simple kiss. He hates him, he hates how he doesn’t hate him at all. It only brings him even more frustration as he brings his hands up to fist at Liam’s blazer, kissing him harder than absolutely necessary.

He pours all his anger and frustration in the kiss, nipping at Liam’s bottom lip with intent, he earns a sharp intake of air for his efforts.

And _Fuck_, he misses this so much. He doesn’t think there has ever been anyone who as ever kissed him like Liam does. The thought makes his heart ache in his chest, he shouldn’t miss this. He got away from this, he shouldn’t be allowing himself to slip back into this lifestyle again. But here he is, kissing Liam like his life depended on it.

He hates this feeling so fucking much.

And just like that, he’s unbelievably angry again his blood all but boiling as it had before and he shoves Liam away. Liam only manages a small sound of confusion before Zayn is striking his hand against the man’s cheek with brute force. The sound echoes like thunder around them down the dark alleyway and into the night. They both stand panting, Liam with a red hand print on his left cheek and Zayn with a stinging right palm. Zayn briefly notices that the slap drew blood when Liam spits a bit of red onto the pavement before rubbing at his jaw and cheek. “Don’t, don’t touch me again.” Zayn warns shaking his head. “Oh come on, I thought you were easy. After all it only took you a month after we broke up to spread your legs for, what was his name? Diego?” Liam questions and Zayn can tell he’s pissed. Zayn gives a scoff before pushing past Liam.

“Stay away from me Liam, and stay away from my family too.” He spits before heading for his car.

As expected, Liam ignores his words completely. “Give ma a kiss for me.” He says and Zayn knows it’s just to spite him. Zayn rips open his car door angrily as he glares at the man, watching him head back inside.

Zayn slips into car, slamming his door closed behind himself and just sits there for a moment before he’s slamming his hands wildly against the steering wheel over and over again with a shout of “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter was a roller coaster.


	4. A conflict of interest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the last chapter was pretty shitty in my opinion but this one is a bit better seeing as we can actually get into the plot with all that messy drama out the way. 
> 
> Update: *screams in fucking stressed out*

_ **12:40am** _

_ **United Kingdom, Wolverhampton** _

Zayn spits out yet another mouthful of toothpaste into the bathroom sink before he's back to aggressively brushing his teeth. He's been at it for a good twenty minutes now, trying his damn hardest to get the taste of Liam out of his mouth. It's obviously not working out very well seeing as Zayn ends up squeezing yet another blob of toothpaste onto the brush before once again returning it to his mouth, much to Waliyha's dismay as the girl continues to complain about how he's hogging up the bathroom and how she has to shower. Zayn ignores her for the most part until he's too annoyed to keep up the charade, "Look, you had all day to use the damn shower. Now stop fucking bugging me." He snaps at the girl around a mouthful of foaming white toothpaste earning a flinch.

A total of two seconds pass before Zayn feels terribly guilty. He leans against the sink heavily, arms extended on either side of the sink to hold himself up as he closes his eyes before spitting his toothpaste and then exhaling deeply. "Wally, I'm sorry." He apologizes because it's not fair for him to be taking his frustration out on the girl. Waliyha nods her head, not too offended by her brother's harsh words. She crosses her arms over her chest before leaning against the door frame. "I take it dinner with Harry didn't go very well, huh?" She questions and yeah, of course he told her. There weren't many things he kept from her.

Almost reluctantly Zayn nods his head, "Liam showed up." He mumbles, finally turning the facet back on and rinsing his mouth with cold water before shutting it off again. He notices Waliyha give a small grimace in the bathroom mirror. Although she didn't know the whole story behind his and Liam's break up, she knew that Zayn had downplayed it for some reason. Much unlike her mother, she kept a reasonable distance between herself and Liam out of simple respect for her brother which he was extremely grateful for. "He still standing?" She questions jokingly and for her satisfaction, Zayn snorts but still nods his head. "Unfortunately." He says.

There's a moment of silence, a moment that Zayn takes to gather his thoughts and seek out his next words carefully.

"He kissed me."

"And I kissed him back."

His confession is met with silence as Waliyha blinks at him in the mirror. "Oh." She finally clears her throat, with eyebrows furrowed in what could only be confusion. "So are you guys...cool now or?" She begins hesitantly, obviously not wanting to touch the conversation with a ten foot pole. _And rightly so_, she thinks as Zayn gives a scoff, "It's not that fucking simple alright." He says in a tone that sounds down right bitter as he shakes his head. "Why not?" She pushes, although she knew she shouldn't.

But that was the thing about Waliyha. She wasn't like Doniya in the slightest. She pushed and pushed until either she couldn't anymore or she got what she wanted, whereas Doniya preferred to approach things with caution and to give space along with time. But Waliyha didn't have the patience for that.

At her question, Zayn looks down to the sink to avoid her gaze. He squeezes his eyes closed, he wish he had the guts to just spit it out but he couldn't, no matter how bad he wanted to. It was just some part of him that feared she'd look at him differently, that everyone would look at him differently. If he had just been honest from the beginning, he wouldn't be in this position. "Liam...he did something, something that I don't think I'll ever really get over." He says, trying his hardest to keep his voice from wavering.

_And I'm confused, because the only thing that has kept me going and has kept me away from this hell hole was hating him but that kiss only made me realize that I don't hate him. That I actually miss him. I miss him so fucking much._ Those thoughts go unsaid.

Waliyha gives a deep inhale. "Look, I get it. You've got your secrets that you wanna keep just as much as I got mine.." she starts and Zayn knows she's gearing up for speech that she's most likely hoping will have some impact on him. It most likely won't. "And I respect your word, you tell me to keep my distance from Liam, the only question I ask you is 'how far?' and that's all to it because I trust you and I know you've got your reasons. I'd do almost anything you told me to, that's how much I love and trust you. But one thing I'm not going to do is sit here and fucking pity you because you can't handle a small kiss." Her words don't sound as harsh as they actually are. "You're a grown fucking man. It's been five years, you've moved on and got your head on straight. Don't come back here and let that damn idiot get you off track. You're not here for him." She reminds and oddly enough it seems to be exactly what he needed to hear.

"Now, stop hogging the bathroom you asshole, you're just being dramatic at this point and running up our water bill." She huffs crossing her arms over chest and it startles a unexpected laugh from him. Shaking his head, Zayn pushes off of the sink and drops his toothbrush back into the toothbrush holder before he's heading out the bathroom. He pauses just as he passes her, "Thanks by the way, I needed to hear that." He mumbles. Waliyha only sends him a bright smile, "Don't sweat it, I love putting a bit of common sense into people's heads." She says jokingly with a small wink to follow it up. With a snort Zayn wishes her a goodnight just before the girl is, quite literally, slamming the door in his face.

He'll admit that while Doniya was better at giving advice, _a lot _better, Waliyha' s advice was just as appreciated due to the simple fact alone that she never sugarcoated anything. She told you the cold hard truth wether you wanted to hear it or not. She was bold like that, it was a trait he always admired and even envied slightly.

The walk to his bedroom feels longer than it actually is and he isn't exactly sure why.

Maybe it's from how tired he is, or maybe all the 'excitement' from today has finally decided to take it's toll. Either way, by the time he actually makes it to his room he doesn't waste time in falling into bed. He lies there, button down shirt still tucked firmly into his slacks and his socks still on his feet. He doesn't think he has the energy to change out of his clothes.

Once his eyes close, he's out like the dead.

-

_ **6:20am** _

_ **United Kingdom, Wolverhampton** _

Zayn groggily blinks open his eyes at the sound of knocking on his door, he gives a tired huff as he begins to stretch out slightly against the sheets of his bed. "What?" He calls out, his voice slightly hoarse and deep with sleep. At the sound of his voice, the door door cracks open and Doniya pokes her head inside. "Hey sleeping beauty, you got a visitor." She says with a small grin taking over her face. Zayn stares at her with a bit of confusion, his mind still in a sleep induced haze. "Huh?" He questions.

"Someone is at the door for you, get up." She repeats and Zayn groans, pulling the covers over his head. "What time is it?" He mumbles from under the warm comfort of his blanket, his room was oddly drafty this morning. "It's around six." Doniya answers before making her way inside the small bedroom and heading for the bed. Zayn doesn't get so much as a warning before the girl is yanking the cover right from his grasp.

"Doniya." He whines as light engulfs his vision. "At least get up and tell him to go away." Is the only response she gives. Zayn tenses slightly at her words, a frown taking root on his face. "Who's at the door, Doniya?" He questions. Taking notice of his body language, Doniya's face softens into something understanding. "It's not _him_." She assures as she moves to sit at the edge of the bed and he briefly wonders how she knew who he was thinking of. Though he guesses it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure it out seeing as everyone in this house knew the last person he wanted to see let alone talk to was one Liam Tomlinson-Payne. "How did last night go by the way? You get some information on your girl?" Doniya asks, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Zayn only gives a sigh before shaking his head, "I'd prefer not to talk about last night." He grumbles sitting up in bed. Doniya cringes softly at his words, "That bad?" She asks. "Liam showed up." Is the only answer Zayn gives before he's standing from the bed. He heads over to his closet door and rummages around a bit. "Oh...that couldn't have ended well." Doniya thinks out loud. Zayn returns from the closet with a fluffy black robe draped over his shoulders. "It didn't. I slapped him." He shrugs almost nonchalantly. Doniya's eyebrows raise at the statement but before she can ask about it Zayn continues, "After he kissed me." The casualty of his words cause her jaw to drop but he seems unfazed by her reaction seeing as he only continues to go about looking under his bed for his Nike slides.

He finds them without problem and slides them on his sock covered feet before tying the front of his robe to hide the fact he's still wearing his clothes from yesterday. "Wait a minute, you said he kissed you? And you slapped him?" Doniya repeats as if she hadn't heard her brother correctly the first time. Zayn gives an eye roll, "Yes, and exactly in that order." He nods which only causes Doniya to break out in a fit of laughter. "Oh man, I wish I could have been there to see it." She all but giggles out. "Well I'm glad you find it so amusing, because I surely didn't." He mumbles as he heads for his bedroom door with a small frown on his face. "Oh lighten up." Doniya waves off before adding, "At least you had a real reason to slap him this time, that had to feel good." She points out.

And Zayn can't help but think how wrong she is. He had also thought that slapping Liam would bring him some type of sick satisfaction but it didn't, as stupid as that sounds. It didn't make him feel better, only worse for some odd reason. He realized that last night inside his car after the altercation as he had a ten-minute melt down.

"Yeah sure." He agrees just to get her to stop talking about the situation all together. And in typical Doniya fashion, the girl reads his emotions like an open book and drops it. "Alright, enough about that. You've got someone waiting." She points out before standing from the bed and moving to usher him out the room. With a huff Zayn allows the girl to steer him down the hall and in the direction of the living room before she's dumping him in front of the front door. "I'm gonna go get dressed for work, you go ahead and handle your stuff." She nods at him before heading out the living room.

With yet another eye roll Zayn reaches for the door before pulling it open. What he finds isn't what he had been expecting.

Standing at the stoop of the porch looking rather impatient is Harry Styles.

The man stands dressed in a black trench coat that stops just below his knees, underneath he's wearing a black suit that fits his frame too well with a silk blood red tie. He's even wearing fucking ray bans over his eyes with his curly long hair done up in a bun, a few strands slipping loose. In one hand he's holding a lit cigarette to his lips and in the other he's holding a large coffee all while he taps his foot impatiently.

"What is so important that you feel the need to show at my house at six in the fucking morning?" Zayn asks plainly, his expression set into something almost stormy. Harry for his part looks a bit startled by Zayn's voice as his head snaps up in his direction. He flashes a quick smile before setting the cigarette firmly between his lips and switching the coffee cup to his other hand. He extends it in Zayn's direction, offering up the coffee, "Truce?" He asks. Zayn only narrows his eyes at the cup.

"What's in it?" He asks almost suspiciously. Harry beams at him, "It's your favorite, four and four. Four sugars, and four creams." He answers excitedly, as if he had been waiting for Zayn to ask him. "It's three and three." Zayn rolls his eyes but holds his hand out for the cup of coffee nevertheless.

Still with that stupid grin on his face, Harry steps forward and hands off the coffee to Zayn. "So you came over to my house, and woke me up at six in the morning just to give me some coffee?" Zayn questions, flipping the lid and sipping lightly at the beverage.

Harry takes his cigarette between his fingers, drawing another hit from it before he flicks it to the ground and briefly stomps it with the soles of his Versace boots. "Let me take you to breakfast." He demands, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his trench coat as he exhales a bout of smoke, it mixing with the fog of his breath the air produces. Zayn raises an eyebrow as he hugs the robe around himself a bit tighter, it was cold as fuck in his opinion, "What makes you think I'd do that? Especially after what happened last night?" He questions. Harry gives a sigh, "I'm sorry about that. It definitely wasn't planned, but its hard to keep shit from Liam in this city alright? He runs shit here and has eyes everywhere." Harry explains with a growing frown of his own. Zayn furrows his eyebrows, "You're scared of him, why?" He questions, crossing his arms over his chest in a demanding way. Harry clicks his teeth against the roof of his mouth, clearly not liking the question, "He's not the same Zayn, not since you left. After what went down that night," Harry pauses when he notices Zayn tensing up.

"After what happened...once you left...he uh—he killed Josh." Harry adds, swallowing around a lump in his throat. Zayn feels his stomach drop at Harry's words, "W—what? That was Liam?" He questions and it feels a little harder to breathe. Harry nods his head, "He found out that Josh was the one who gave the go for _him_ to take the job." He continues and although he doesn't say the boy's name, Zayn's heart feels like it just may collapse inside his chest. "What you're telling me is, Josh was the one—he got him—" Zayn chokes up on his own words. Harry nods his head once again, "Josh, he didn't do it on purpose, at least I don't think so." He speaks up.

There's a long pause, where there's nothing but silence between them both before Zayn nods his head numbly at the information, trying his best to take it all in. "But the reason that I'm here is, I wanted to take you to breakfast so we could talk about that favor you needed. You know, the one you couldn't ask for last night?" Harry reminds and Zayn had almost forgotten he had even asked. With a sigh, he opens the front door up wider so that the other man can take it as a silent invitation to come inside. "I have to shower first." He announces as he traces back further inside the house, setting his coffee cup down on the marble console table once he's close enough to do so. It isn't long before Harry is entering, shrugging off his trench coat and folding it over his arm before taking a seat on the couch. Zayn can't help notice how out of place he looks sitting on the slightly worn couch in his fancy suit and expensive boots. It's almost as if there wasn't a time where him, Josh, Zayn and Liam sat on that couch counting money or bagging up dime bags. And while they weren't friends, Zayn will admit that, they were something close to it no matter how much he claimed Harry annoyed him back in high school. But the man sitting in front of him now looks like a stranger.

With a shake of his head to clear his thoughts, Zayn points a finger at the end table next to Harry's arm. "The tv remote is right there if you want to watch something, help yourself. I'll be no longer than thirty minutes." He mumbles and exits the living room before Harry has a chance to respond.

With each step he takes to the bathroom, his shoulders feel heavier and heavier. He doesn't realize his hand is shaking until he touches the bathroom knob and gives it a twist but it rattles the whole time due to the shakiness of his hand. "Fuck." He mutters to himself before swinging the door open and stepping inside before someone sees how fucking wrecked he is. Once he's inside the privacy of the bathroom with the door shut, he sits on the toilet lid.

He unties his robe slowly, staring blankly with glossed over eyes at the grey bathroom wall. He goes about undressing in a rather robotic rhythm.

It's not until he's actually in the shower, under the warm spray of water, that he breaks. He leans his head against the shower wall as the water beats at his back and he closes his eyes. He sees Josh's face, and is reminded of the happy, carefree kid who cared for everyone but was cared for by no one. He's reminded of the kid who just wanted to _get out,_ of the kid who reminded him from time to time that it was okay to have dreams. But then he remembers the call he got, the call from his mother telling him that his childhood best friend was just pronounced dead due to a fatal shot delivered to his abdomen. He had spent a better half of his night starving off a panic attack as _that night_ flashed so clear in his mind, even though it had already been two years since he left. It was all too familiar. He couldn't go through that, not again.

There was a funeral, closed casket per family's request, but Zayn didn't go. He couldn't go back, he wasn't ready. He knew he wasn't strong enough to face Liam at the time and still walk away for a second time—and _oh god_, Liam, he's the one who pulled the trigger. Zayn wants to scream, but he doesn't. Instead he bites his bottom lip raw, as the sting of tears burn heavily.

He doesn't fight them for once.

Instead he brings a hand to his mouth to muffle a broken sob. His shoulders shake as he silently cries. He feels the same ache that he felt when he was eighteen. The need to pack up and run away is strong, but he's not like that anymore. He gets his shit done before he runs now.

-

_ **8:40 am** _

_ **United Kingdom, Birmingham** _

The place that Harry ends up taking Zayn is a small homey bakery, just twelves miles outside of Wolverhampton.

The places feels cozy with it's fall decor and cushioned seats. It's a quaint little place, nothing like anything he has seen back in Wolverhampton. There's a mouth watering smell coming from the counter that has Zayn's stomach involuntarily rumbling. He thinks he understands why Harry choose this place.

That is until a pretty blonde boy who works here comes by their little table to make small chat with Harry.

Then it's fucking obvious why he wanted to come here.

While talking to the boy, Harry's whole demeanor changes. His face lights up like a damn Christmas tree and it reminds Zayn so much of the kid he knew in high school. But it also confuses him because last night, he could have sworn Harry was with Louis and after all that pinning he did in high school for the little asshole it's almost hard to believe. The blonde looks vaguely familiar, like Zayn has seen him in passing but probably never actually spoke to him.

He has a thick Irish accent and a certain innocence about his blue eyes, and with the looks he's shooting Harry it's obvious that things aren't exactly one sided on Harry's part.

And while Zayn doesn't usually involve himself in other people's shit, this is pretty damn interesting.

"—And you know Zayn? he went to high school with us?" Harry's question, as he gestured directly at him, pulls Zayn from his thoughts. Zayn blinks for a moment before looking back to the blonde who seemed to be staring at him as if trying to place him or where he could have possibly seen him. "Oh yeah! we had art together—erm, junior year!" The boy perks up slightly and god Zayn can't help but think this boy is a much better match for Harry than Louis could ever be. Zayn squints at the blonde as he wracks his mind for a name, it's just at the tip of his tongue and he knows he knows it. He never forgets a name once he has a face to go with it, as long as that face hasn't changed much.

"Niall." He blurts once the name finally appears in his mind.

The blonde smiles at this, as if Zayn had just made his day by only remembering his name alone. "It's nice to see you again, Zayn." Niall nods his head. "Likewise." Zayn mumbles for the sake of being polite.

"Well, while I would love to sit here and chat, those tarts aren't going to bake themselves." Niall teases with a snort before briefly resting a hand on Harry's shoulder and giving a small squeeze, "I'll catch you later." He tells him before heading off back in the direction of the counter.

Zayn shoots Harry a raised eyebrow, "What was that about?" He questions. "What was what about?" Harry asks, as clueless as ever. Zayn only rolls his eyes, "You like him." He points out and heat immediately rushes to Harry's cheeks. "N-no I don't, he's a friend." The brunette stammers and Zayn can't help the small smirk that grows on his face. "And he likes you." He adds and this causes Harry to pause, "What? No he doesn't, does he?" He questions and Zayn can't believe this is supposed to be a stone cold drug dealer.

Zayn nods his head at the question, "The real question is what's the deal with you and Louis?" He can't help himself from asking. Harry seems to frown at the question, his eyebrows furrowing into something that almost looks angry. "That's complicated, okay? I don't remember us coming here for you to interrogate me on who I'm with or who I'm not with. Like you said before, we're not friends. So stay out my business." Harry snaps lightly, taking Zayn by surprise.

_Sensitive topic: Louis. Duly noted_. Zayn thinks to himself before raising his hands in defense.

"It was just a question, no need to go biting off anyone's head now." He mumbles with a frown. Harry gives a deep sigh before rubbing at his face tiredly, "I'm sorry, it's just Louis is—well, he's Louis," Harry begins with a pointed look. "And I don't like people questioning us, I doubt us enough on my own so can we just not talk about that?" Harry huffs slightly. Zayn can only manage a nod of his head, still slightly off put by the way Harry had snapped, never having seen Harry snap before.

“So what’s this favor you need from me about?” Harry clears his throat as a bit of awkward silence passes by them. Zayn sits up a bit more in his seat at this, “I need your help finding someone.” he says before shifting his eyes slightly to see if there was a possibility of anyone eavesdropping on their conversation. “You need me to find someone? Or do you need me to _find someone_.” Harry empathizes and Zayn has a chilling thought as he’s reminded of the fact that Harry has probably killed before, that he has probably killed _for Liam_ before. 

He shakes his head at the question, "No, not like that." Zayn says with a slight narrow of his eyes. "There's a girl, she's eighteen and her name is Mila Castillo. She's from Bradford, a student up at Feversham College." He begins to list off. Harry nods his head, "When did she go missing?" He asks as his expression slips into something deadly serious. "Uh— about a day and a half." Zayn says unsurely. "Do you know where she was last seen?" Harry continues his line of questioning. "Last I heard, she was in her dorms." Zayn answers with a small shrug. If he's being honest, he didn't know much else about the situation. He was just as much in the dark as everyone else.

Harry gives a small hum, "Alright, I'll see what I can do without Liam catching wind of it." He assures before Niall is back, dropping by with a tray full of delicious pastries. "Sorry for the wait guys, but here you go." He smiles kindly as he sets the tray down onto the table. And if Zayn weren't so hungry right now, he'd probably question the fact that they hadn't ordered anything but then again he guesses Harry comes here enough for the staff to know what he like. Without too much thought, Zayn reaches forward and grabs an Apple turn-over before biting into it. He hadn't realized just how hungry he had been until he all but inhaled the tasty treat and is reaching for another in just under one minute.

Though he guesses, this is what he gets for skipping out on lunch and dinner last night, his stomach obviously hadn't been very happy with the decision.

"This is really good." He says around a mouthful to Niall. The blonde smiles brightly at this, "Thank you, I made them." He hums pleased. Zayn only nods his head reaching for another while Harry snorts.

-

The ride back to Zayn's house is silence. He has come to notice that Harry is quite literally the perfect driver. He stops at stop signs for longer than three seconds, he slows up at yellow lights, he wears his seatbelt and he even keeps both hands on the steering wheel at all times. The only downside to this really, is that he also doesn't listen to music which leaves them in their current awkward predicament.

And the thing about Zayn is, he hates silence. With everything he does he needs some kind of noise, as stupid as it sounds. He can't focus without it. Though he hates silence, he isn't exactly kine on talking. But then again there's a question that had been nagging at him since he got in the car. He supposes if they're going to be stuck together for another six miles he should probably fill the silence.

"Were you there?" He looks over at Harry as he asks the question, staring at him intensely. He watches as Harry gives a frown, "Was I where?" Harry asks in turn, keeping his eyes on the road. "Were you there when Liam killed Josh?" The words leave a funny taste in his mouth, he never thought he'd say them. He never could have imagined ever coming close to saying them actually. Harry tenses in his seat before shaking his head, "No, but Liam told me he did it." He finally answers and the sick feeling is back once again.

There was a time where Liam considered Josh a brother. A time where Liam would put his life on the line for Josh's. Zayn can't even phantom the idea of Liam being the one to pull the trigger on Josh. "I'm telling you, he ain't been the same since you left Zayn, he got paranoid. And after Xavier, he blamed himself—" Harry begins. "Because it was his fucking fault." Zayn scoffs as if he couldn't believe Harry's words. "And don't fucking say his name again," he adds snappishly.

Harry gives a sigh but reverts back to his previous silence.

Surprisingly, Harry is pulling up in front of Zayn's house in a matter of a few minutes. Zayn hadn’t realized the amount of time that had passed between his thoughts and talking to Harry. Once Harry parks the black Audi Zayn doesn’t waste time in undoing his seatbelt and climbing out.

“I’ll call you if anything comes up.” Harry calls out to him from his car window. Zayn nods his head before backing away from the car, allowing Harry to peel off.

With a small sigh Zayn begins up the sidewalk before pausing when he spots a familiar figure sitting on the steps of his porch. At the sound of his footsteps, the figure looks up to him before standing to his feet.

“Zayn..” the man breathes out.

The leather of his jacket stretches nicely along the expanse of shoulders when he stands to hug full height. The man runs a hand over his stubble gently before speaking again, “We need to talk,” he sighs softly. Zayn pauses momentarily.

“Diego...what are you doing here?”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many questions this chapter, huh? Who is Xavier? What is going on between Harry and Niall? Why did Liam kill Josh? Find out next time on when I get my shit together and update.
> 
> Honestly, I don’t have a specific update schedule but I do try to update ever other Friday.
> 
> And also comments are greatly appreciated, even if I don’t answer all the time :) I’m trying to get better at that but I hardly have time to respond.
> 
> Also, If you’re having a hard time picturing what Diego looks like I imagine him as Michael Trevino


	5. Did you start a war?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when I tell you guys I STRUGGLED with this chapter 💀 like the amount of break downs I've had in the past few weeks because of school alone really has not helped my writing schedule but seeing as I have finally managed to make time to write I'm already working on chapter six in advance so we won't have this issue again.

**10:00pm**

** _United Kingdom, Wolverhampton_ **

Zayn gives a soft sigh as he blinks up at the silhouette of his ceiling fan that seems to be the only thing that stands out in the darkness of his bedroom.

In the small twin sized bed beside him, Diego sleeps soundly. The man's bare chest raises and falls lightly with each breath he takes as one of his arms hang loosely around Zayn's waist while their legs remain in a tangled heap of limbs. They had spent the better half of his arrival arguing, Diego hadn't been too happy with the fact Zayn left him in the dark about his sister. Zayn hadn't been too happy with the fact his decisions were being questioned when he was currently working his ass off to the point of exhaustion. Thankfully the house had been empty at the time with Doniya having gone to work, Waliyha having a class and his mother off to work before he even woke up.

He can only imagine their horror if they had been there to hear the screaming match that had ensued between the two of them that went on for nearly hours.

And he doubts that they would they have been too happy to hear what followed shortly after.

Multiple times.

But now that everything has been said and done, Zayn is left to his own devices. He managed maybe an hour and half of sleep before his body slipped into a state of restlessness, before his mind began to race with Harry's words from earlier. It almost seems as if ever since Harry's visit, he has felt nothing short of tensed. Like there's a certain atmosphere around him that just won't let him breathe properly or relax. Like he can't let his guard down in his own childhood home. It also doesn't help that every time he closes his eyes he sees Josh's face.

Harry's words feel like a constant plague on his mind.

Yet, some part of him wonders how Liam did it.

He imagines him staring their best friend dead set in his eyes with an emotionless expression taking over his face, or maybe there would be a frown playing at his lips, before he raises his right hand that holsters a gun while Josh stands in front of him with a confused and betrayed expression. Or maybe Liam pulled the trigger while Josh had his back turned to him, unexpecting and trusting as he was. Either way, Zayn knows Liam left someone they both considered family to die alone in a cold, dark alley and that alone is the cruelest thing he could have ever done.

It makes him sick to his stomach, just thinking of the fact that maybe he doesn't know Liam after all.

Or not anymore at least.

He hates how the feeling doesn't sit right with him. He should be happy that he doesn't know Liam anymore, he should be ecstatic. Though oddly enough, he can't find the thought to be anything more than troubling. It only brings on more sets of questions, questions that he didn't need to be weighing on his fucking conscious. Was Liam always like that? Did Zayn ever even know the real Liam? Or was this side of Liam always there to begin with? Did he simply overlook the signs because he had been in love?

The new set of questions that his mind strings along does nothing to help his restlessness, if anything it worsens it.

With a rather deep breath Zayn rubs a hand over his face, he wishes he could just stop thinking as a whole but his brain is an asshole that loves to torture him at the absolute worse times.

Beside him, Diego shifts in bed earning a small creak from the wooden frame work of the bed and the action momentarily startles Zayn as he's pulled out from the dark corners of his mind.

"Stop thinking so much, I can't sleep with you being this tense." Diego grumbles as he nuzzles closer to Zayn, pulling him back further against his chest while he rests his face in Zayn's hair. Zayn sighs, "Sorry, let me just turn my brain off for a second." He responds sarcastically. The tone earns him a playful pinch against the back of his thigh from Diego. He gives a small yelp as he flinched away slightly. "Asshole." He grumbles slapping Diego's hand that rests on his hip lightly with the smallest hints of irritation. Diego chuckles before settling down, "What are you thinking about?" He hums sleepily.

"Nothing." Zayn answers because it sounds better than saying 'My ex and how maybe I didn't know him at all.'

Diego doesn't seem to buy the lie but he doesn't push on it either. And Zayn appreciates it. It's probably what he likes most about Diego, if it's not concerning him or his siblings he doesn't give a shit.

"Alright, if you could stop thinking about nothing, I would greatly appreciate it." Diego grumbles softly, burying his face into his pillow tiredly.

Zayn snorts before moving his hand down to where Diego's arm has been draped over his waist, he picks it up and gently throws it off of himself. The action earns him a smack of the lips from Diego who in turns groan. "What are you doing?" The man complains causing Zayn to roll his eyes, "I'm going to take a shower." He answers plainly as he sits up in bed with only the smallest wince. He'd be lying if he said he didn't see the hidden smirk Diego gave as he watched him. "You need some company?" Diego asks in a sly turn making Zayn snort. "Yeah no, I think I'll manage just fine without you." The raven haired man responds standing from the bed.

Diego rolls over onto his back with a small pout playing at his lips, "Why you gotta be like that?" He questions and Zayn can't help but think the man looks kind of adorable with the way he tilts his head at him like a scolded puppy. "Like what?" He plays dumb as he stands from the bed, grabbing his robe and throwing it on. Diego snorts, swiping out his tongue to wet his lips before placing his hand behind his head which unfortunately causes the sheet to slip off the top half of his body a bit. And it is a nice body after all, so Zayn can't be blamed for staring.

Regrettably, this seems to fuel Diego's ego seeing as the man loses his pout real quick and smirks instead, "Like what you see?" He questions.

Zayn rolls his eyes because he likes to play difficult and hard to get, "No, don't flatter yourself." he shoots back plainly as he moves to his duffel and begins to search through the bag for a new set of clothing. Diego huffs a chuckle, "See, that's the shit I'm taking about." He points out, though not exactly in a heated way. Zayn only hums in response, showing that he was clearly not interested in what Diego had to say.

With a low chuckle and eye roll of his own Diego rolls back over onto his other side. "Wake me up when the sun is up." He says around a loud yawn.

"Okay." Zayn agrees before heading out the bedroom door once he has a change of clothes.He's just shutting the door behind himself, the door itself giving a soft click, when he nearly jumps out his skin as he comes face to face with his mother who by the looks of it just came in from her shift. "Jesus fuck mom." He places his hand over his heart to help calm himself.

The woman in question only quirks an eyebrow at him in amusement, "Someone's jumpy." She points out in what he assumes is meant to be a teasing tone but she just sounds tired. Zayn only shakes his head, "I'm always like this," he mumbles. "I've always been like this." He adds almost like an afterthought. With a weak and sad smile on her lips, his mother shakes her head. "No you haven't baby, not before you left." She denies and Zayn guesses she's right. Even though he led a dangerous life here in Wolverhampton he never looked over his shoulder twice when he lived here. Things changed though, when he was here in Wolverhampton he had Liam, his sisters, Josh, and even Harry to watch his back but Bradford was a different story. He was alone for the first time in his life, forced to learn how to adapt.

Forced to learn the hard way that sometimes only you could have your own back.

Though it wasn't all bad, after a few months of living in Bradford on his own he met Diego and although it took him a while to trust the other man completely, he managed to get there. With Diego's help, Zayn made himself a home within the city of Bradford and managed to rely on himself a little less.

Shaking his head to stop his train of thought, Zayn clears his throat, "Anyway, have you heard from Safaa?" He questions though it's more in an attempt to stall his mother before she could begin her worrying. He hated when she worried about him. At the question she nods her head, "Yeah, she's fine. Still in school." The woman answers. You see, Zayn wasn't the only person who thought to get the hell out of dodge when things went bad. Just a few months ago, after she graduated from high school, his youngest sister Safaa readily threw herself to the first private boarding school that accepted her with a full ride. Even if said school was halfway across the country. "That's good." Zayn nods his head a bit. It made him feel better to know there wasn't a possibility she could get caught up in this shit storm.

There's a moment of silence and Zayn knows his mother is about to ask about Mila but before she can even open her mouth, he beats her to the punch. "Well I'm gonna go take a quick shower, you should probably head to bed." He mumbles, not wanting to face the fact that he still had no answers. By the looks of it, his mother is more tired than he had first assumed because she doesn't put up much of a fight. She just nods her head in agreement which was unusual in itself but he'd be a fool to think that the conversation was dropped completely, knowing her it was only temporarily avoided. Without another word Zayn watches as his mother heads off in the direction of her bedroom before he is heading in the direction of the bathroom.

**9:20am**

** _United Kingdom, Wolverhampton_ **

The next morning Zayn is the first to wake up. He lies in bed, watching Diego as he sleeps and he realizes that it never fails to amaze him just how much the man can sleep while he, himself, only needs maybe a good four and a half hours before his body is quite literally forcing him up. Though he assumes with the way he spaces out most of the time his sleep pattern isn't all that healthy. Sighing softly to himself, Zayn sits up in bed.

He takes a moment to rub the sleep from his eyes while he gives a quiet yawn.

Once he finishes the task, he looks to his door and simply stares blankly ahead.

He feels like he has fallen back into a loop. Ever since he has come back home, he feels like he's just doing the same things over. Wake up, space out, have unnecessarily deep conversation, get upset, go to bed, rinse and repeat. To be quite frank he doesn't like it.

Managing to break the stare, Zayn chambers out of bed before slipping on his slides and exiting his old bedroom. The house is relatively quiet as he heads to the kitchen but as he grows closer he can make out the faint sounds of a conversation. With a frown, Zayn strains his hearing a bit just to hear the smooth and deep voice, that surely does not belong to his mother, so that he can place it.

Pausing just shy of the entryway, Zayn continues to make an attempt at eavesdropping on the conversation occurring.

All he manages to hear though is his mother giving a small breath of laughter before it's followed by a male's rich chuckle. He has come to the conclusion that he has either gone deaf or the two are having a very hushed conversationbecause he can't seem to make out any of the words that are being spoken. Instead all he hears is muddied voices that can't be more than a whisper. Face scrunching up at the sound of the male's voice, Zayn furrows his eyebrows as he finally places it. He can't help but feel angry as he finally steps into the kitchen.

Seated at the small table tucked away in the corner of the kitchen, right across from his mother, is of fucking course Liam.

He's sitting too causal for Zayn's liking, like he fucking belongs in or owns that damn seat with the way he's sitting back in the chair all relaxed and shit.

At Zayn's entry both his mother and Liam look to him. Liam, the bastard, smirks as if he knows that just his presence here alone is pissing Zayn off before he brings his cup to his lips knowing damn well it did nothing to hide the smug look. Zayn's mother must notice the same thing too, but always one to push boundaries she ignores it. "Oh, good morning honey, how did you sleep?" She asks in a rather sweet tone as if daring him to step out of line. Zayn scowls and grits his teeth, "Like a baby." He answers dryly, eyes locked solely on Liam as he glares him down.

There's an awkward silence that follows, until his mother stands from the table, "Well I should go check on the clothes that I left in the wash." The woman announces and Zayn can't help but think as his mother walks over to the basement door and begins down the stairs, closing the door behind herself, that she has never been a good liar.

Once he's sure they're alone he opens his mouth to speak. "I told you to fucking stay away from my family." He glares daggers into Liam's face, balling his fist at his side. The longer he stares at the stupid smug look on Liam's face, the angrier he becomes. It doesn't help much that Harry's words linger at the back of his mind, where they have been for most of the night. There's a part of him that wants to ask Liam, that just wants to know why he did what he did but a larger part of him just wants to kill the man.

"What? I had to bring Ma her tea. You know how she likes it, hint of lemon zest and those little berries. Plus the only place that sells it like that happens to be right across the street from my place." Liam answers causally, his words blending together in a smooth tone because of his accent. "First of all, she isn't _your 'Ma'_ so stop fucking calling her that and second I don't give a shit what you _had_ to do, I told your ass to leave her alone." Zayn hisses but Liam only shoots him a bored look before he's sipping at his tea, "So how was your little meet up with Harry?" The man questions instead and Zayn pauses slightly. Regaining his composure, Zayn scoffs, "I cant fucking stand you." He shakes his head. "Then have a seat, we need to have a little chat anyway." The brunette says in a way that makes Zayn want to choke him with that damn tie hanging around his neck.

"What makes you think I want to talk to you?" Zayn raises an eyebrow, he couldn't believe Liam was proposing something like that after he had quite literally just cursed him out.

"It's not about what you want _kotenok_, we need to talk. I'm not asking." Liam leans forward slightly in his chair and Zayn can't help but feel a least a bit intimidated. There's a part of him that wants to believe that Liam would never intentionally hurt him physically but now, he isn't too sure. It's almost painful to think. With a huff, Zayn reluctantly takes the seat that had been all but abandoned by his mother. He waits until Liam looks like he's about to speak again before abruptly cutting the man off. "How did you even know I met with Harry ?"

At the disruption, Liam narrows his eyes slightly. Clearly not enjoying Zayn's petty behavior. "I've told you before, I've got eyes and ears everywhere in this city. I ask questions and I get answers. That simple." Liam answers looking as if he's about to move on with what he has to say. Of course Zayn cuts him off once again, "That's funny, because we weren't even in the city." Zayn points out. "That is unless you have my mom's house being watched." He adds shortly after, titling his head to the side in mock innocence.

Liam rolls his eyes before lightly swiping his tongue on his bottom lip to wet it, he gives a small chuckle, "Or maybe I have you being watched." He shoots back and it's enough to shut Zayn up for the time being.

"Now, before I was so rudely cut off, I gotta ask. What did you get yourself into, Z?"

The nickname causes something to swell tight in his chest and makes him almost want to cry. "I don't know what you're talking about." Zayn denies but it's fruitless when Liam holds up a black envelope with his name engraved on the front. Shit. "It must bad, huh? Bad enough for you to come running home." Liam pushes but Zayn doesn't rise to the bait. The man instead clenches his jaw and looks anywhere but at Liam.

"_ty nachal voynu_?" Liam questions but Zayn remains silent.

"Did. you. start. a. war?" Liam repeats the question in English, slowly as he stares at Zayn with intense eyes. "I don't fucking know what I started." Zayn finally answers unhelpfully.

They both fall silent, though it doesn't last long before a voice is interrupting them.

"Zayn, where are the towels and shit? I'm tryna take a shower." None other than Diego calls as he enters the kitchen, dressed in only a pair of boxers.

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I can not begin to express how stressed I am. I am a high schooler taking a college course with a job and have like two maybe three hours at best to actually write this story, not to mention that my time management is actual shit. I really do apologize for taking so long to update. This is not my best work, I know it isn’t, but I promise the next chapter will be a million times better.
> 
> P.s if you’d like to say updated on when I might update, you can check up on me on Wattpad @castielxdean https://my.w.tt/pokOFZIcE1


	6. You’ve got people out for blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, a lot has happened since my last update. My grades are looking a bit better, my crush, who I was kinda sorta dating, is now my boyfriend, I've had like a good 6 papers to type over the course of two weeks, good news though this week was my last week and my Christmas break (after which we come back and have midterms.) has began :))). So I hopefully won't be too busy and will get to write another chapter or two :))) ALSO, there is a TW in the end notes so please do proceed with caution and if needed check the endnotes before continuing on with the chapter.

_ **9:50am** _

_ **United Kingdom, Wolverhampton** _

Zayn wants to say that he didn't visibly tense at Diego's presence in the same vicinity as Liam's.

But if he was to say that, he'd be a liar.

Fact of the matter is, he doesn't know how Liam is going to react and that's what worries him the most. The man has become too much of a wild card for Zayn to be sure of anything that he's going to do. What he does know though, is that when they were together, Liam was a rather possessive piece of shit. He was the kind of boyfriend who if he caught you staring at what was his for too long would knock your teeth in and dare you to continue to do it with a smile on his face. Zayn's not going to lie, when he was younger he ate that shit up. Absolutely fucking loved it, and was rather content to undermine the fact that he was being treated like a piece of property rather than his own person.

Thinking back on it now though, if that kiss a few nights ago has anything to do with the way Liam feels about him, it's obvious that he still views Zayn as his.

Even if it weren't true.

"Um look in the closet to the left of the bathroom." Zayn finally manages to find his voice, feeling as if his heart was beating right there in his very throat. He's surprised that his words didn't come out in a incoherent tremble. The thought is troubling, why would his words come out in a tremble?

The train of thought forces him to realize that for the first time ever in his life, he's afraid of Liam. He isn't sure why, maybe it's because of the fact he now knows Liam is the one who murdered Josh in cold blood.Although it's not even the fact that Liam murdered someone, no, Zayn doesn't care about that (they've all got their hands dirty at some point) it's the fact that the person he killed was fucking _Josh_ of all people. It's the realization that Liam was able to raise a gun to the boy he all but grew up with and still pull the trigger without a trace of remorse, _that_ is what Zayn finds absolutely terrifying.

It begs the question, if he could murder someone he saw as a little brother what could he do to the guy he just use to fuck? Zayn isn't sure he wants to know that answer either. He doesn't think he's ready for what that would imply either because wether he'd like to admit it or not, there's some part of him that truly believes Liam loved him, that he's _still_ in love with him.

Thankfully though, Diego doesn't decide to linger around for longer than absolutely necessary. Instead he gives a delayed nod of his head, as if hesitating at Zayn's answer before he's exiting the kitchen, much quieter than when he had first entered and the motion is enough to pull Zayn out his head. The raven haired man isn't sure if Diego noticed the building tension between him and Liam or if Liam's entire demeanor is what did it, if it's the thing that made him feel uncomfortable enough to simply leave. It wasn't like Diego to go quietly or without argument unless he knew things were serious, but it's not like he knows Liam by face. Zayn can't help but feel it's a little worrying as he turns his attention back to Liam, trying his best to get a read on the man's emotions without revealing too much of his own.

Unfortunately, Liam's face is void of emotions almost as if it was a blank canvas itself.

It's unsettling nonetheless.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Liam is the first to break the silence after countless minutes seemingly tick by and Zayn briefly finds relief in the fact that Liam doesn't choose to address the much larger elephant in the room. "Like what?" Zayn clears his throat before he's shifting in his seat and rolling his shoulders back, if only to make himself seem bigger. "Like you're scared of me." Liam answers with the faintest bit of confusion buried deep in his tone, his eyebrows drawing together in a way that Zayn can't quite understand. He isn't sure if the expression is a mixture of hurt and sadness, or if it's the faintest beginnings of anger or if he's just completely reading the man's expressions entirely wrong. He doesn't get the chance to ponder on it for too long before the brief moment of actual expression is replaced with a stoic one.

Zayn takes a moment to think of his response and Liam must mistake it for hesitation if the slight down curl of his lips has anything to say about it.

Scoffing softly, Zayn shakes his head. "Don't flatter yourself, I'm not scared of you." He lies right through his teeth. He doesn't even know why he bothers trying to lie to Liam anymore though, the man seems to see right through him no matter what. It's all but a fruitless act that he can't quite stop performing because he's so use to lying right to peoples faces without ever being called out on it. Though he guesses Liam would know him better than any of the strangers from Bradford. Not to mention Liam has never been shy in calling him out on his bullshit.

He hates it.

He hates how transparent he can be when it comes to Liam, while Liam to him is like trying to see through a brick wall.

He always thought it was unfair, even when they were together Liam hardly ever showed any emotion past the occasional outburst of anger or his rather _lovey dovey_ tendencies. Of course Zayn had thought it was strange how he'd never seen Liam cry or how the man never seemed to be dejected or alarmed or even happy but he never questioned it too much when they were together. Looking at it now, it's actually kind of scary how well he can mask his emotions so well but if there's one thing that Zayn has learned to read about Liam, that the man wasn't so stellar at hiding, it was his anger.

And right now, with Liam sitting directly across from him, the man doesn't look exactly far from it.

"If you're going to lie to me, at least make the lie sound convincing, _golub malenkiy_." Liam says in a rather passive tone that just boarding the early stages of aggressive. The tone is enough for Zayn to know better than to try and keep it up. "So what if I am? What does that have to do with what you want to talk about?" Zayn huffs a breath with an attempt at subject change, slowly growing more annoyed with the man. "You shouldn't be scared of me, you of all people have no reason to be scared of me. The fact that you feel that way actually hurts my feelings, Zayn, quite a lot." Liam responds almost blandly, and Zayn feels like he's got a nasty taste bubbling at the back of his throat. He strongly disagrees, if anything he should be the one most scared of Liam, especially after all that he has done.

"You think I give a fuck about your feelings? Just say what you have to say and leave, Liam." Zayn shakes his head, as he finds himself becoming more angry than scared. When he looks back to meet Liam's eyes, he's a bit surprised to see those brown eyes starring at him with such emotion that he's never seen from him before. The man looks angry, wretched, and annoyed all rolled into one but it doesn't stop him from speaking. "I want to help you with your situation." He states, voice sounding strained and it's not exactly what Zayn was expecting him to say. "And why is that?" He questions though what he really wants to say is how he doesn't need the help. But he's not stupid enough to not at least hear him out first.

"Because Zayn, things were going relatively well until you came back. Not that I don't miss you or that I'm saying you can't come back to your home town, nothing like that, but in doing this you've managed to throw unknown elements into the mix and that is not something I can allow," Liam begins and Zayn furrows his eyebrows at Liam's words but before he can ask exactly what he means Liam continues, "You see, I've built a rather nice system here, if I do say so myself, and now that you're back here you've brought a shit storm with you." The brunette explains in a calm tone of voice. "You've got people out for blood—for _your_ blood, apparently, and yet the first thing you do is come back here; Leading them right to my doorstep, Zayn." Liam explains in a way that almost sounds like he's scolding him.

Scolding as if he were a child to be exact.

"What do you mean, _your_ doorstep?" Zayn scoffs at the blatant claim, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares at Liam with a hard gaze. "I mean it exactly how I said it. This is _my_ city now, Zayn, and you're not seeming to quite grasp an understanding of the fact." The man leans forward in his chair slightly, all while he maintains strong eye contact with Zayn. Once again the feeling of fear washes over him yet he isn't sure why. Liam told him that he didn't have to be afraid of him, that there was no reason to be and part of him believes that Liam was telling the truth. _Part of him_.

"Okay, what are you suggesting then? That I pack up my shit and go back to Bradford like there wasn't ever anything that brought me back here in the first place?" Zayn questions sarcastically as he tilts his head to the side a bit and narrows his eyes. "See, that's your problem _lyubov moya,_ you love the sound of your voice so much that I can never speak my piece fully." Liam chuckles dryly, with humor completely void of his tone. Zayn opens his mouth to object to the statement but Liam raises a finger and it's enough to make him fall short on his protest. "You've done nothing short of test my patience since you've come home yet I still offer you my help and you have the nerve to question me as such?" Liam questions and Zayn can tell he's just barely keeping a lid on his anger from the way his accent becomes heavier, mudding his words. Zayn knows he treading on thin ice, yet he couldn't find a reason to stop himself.

There was no amount of fear that could keep him silent for long.

"What did you expect, Liam? You wanted me to come home and run into your open arms? Wanted me to apologize for leaving you so that we can live happily ever after? Well, tough shit because news flash, I don't know if you've realized this yet but I kinda really don't fucking like you right now." Zayn says in the same calm manner Liam had spoken his own words in just a matter of seconds ago. The tone and sentence paired together seem to strike a cord with Liam, seeing as the man visibly clenches his fist where it lays against the table top. It's a sight Zayn could almost feel proud of, because while Liam wasn't good at hiding his temper it still took a lot to make that temper show.   
  


"I came back for my family, not you." Zayn reminds, Waliyha's words coming to the forefronts of his mind as he says as much. Liam remains quiet for a moment, undoubtedly silently seething in his seat. "I'm not stupid and I was never under the impression that you were here for me." Liam responds, expression pinched. "I also know that you still blame me for what happened to Xavier—" he begins but Zayn doesn't so much as give him the chance to make it past saying the boy's name before he's snapping. "Because it is your fucking fault." The raven haired man hisses, his entire demeanor changing from calm to intense within a matter of seconds. "I don't care if you weren't the one who gave him the go to sell that night, it was your fucking product that he got ahold of at the end of the day. And it's not like you were totally against having him out there in the first place because if you were he wouldn't have been and you fucking know it so don't even try to feed me that bullshit." Zayn continues on.

Liam only shakes his head once Zayn finishes his sentence, "No, you can't say that shit. I told him no, okay? I did what you asked of me, it is not my fault that an adult choose to make his own decision and paid the price for it. His blood is **_not_** on my hands." Liam states sternly as he glares at Zayn. Zayn only returns it three times worse, "Sixteen Liam! He was a fucking kid not an adult." Zayn begins to yell at the man, but quickly remembers himself and the fact that he was trying his hardest not to alert his mother to the conversation at hand before lowering his voice towards the end of his sentence. "Please, he stopped being a kid the moment he decided to step foot on that corner." Liam scoffs and it's seemingly Zayn's breaking point.

"Fuck you Liam, seriously, fuck you." Zayn responds brokenly around the lump that has managed to form in his throat before he's standing from his seat at the table. Liam doesn't get the chance to back track on his words because Zayn all but leaves out the kitchen in a rush.

Wiping angrily at his eyes, Zayn heads straight for the front door, where he had thankfully left his shoes last night. He doesn't waste time putting them on as he also grabs the first jacket he finds before escaping outside.

The cold air feels nice against his slightly flushed skin or at least it does before he shakily zips up the coat. He's so pissed he can't even think straight. Liam knew Xavier was a sensitive topic for him, hell, he was the reason he fucking left in the first place. Yet here Liam is, throwing his fucking name around like he had any fucking right to. Ignoring the blurriness that has began to settle into his vision, the raven haired man takes a deep breath as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his borrowed coat. He isn't sure where he's going to go, he only knows that he can't stand to be here anymore. He needs to escape, even if only for a while.

-

_ **6:50pm** _

_ **United Kingdom, Wolverhampton** _

Traveling through the streets of Wolverhampton, Zayn has realized just how much has changed since he left.

Most of the stores and shops that he use to hangout at as a teen have either been demolished or are boarded up with graffiti tagging up the sides. His favorite movie theater no longer stands, instead in its place now stands an overpriced mall. Even the houses have changed, more of them now updated to fit the description of a more modern day home. It all makes him feel out of place, like a stranger in the place he grew up. Just when he had began to clear his head, he's brought right back to yet another issue that has plagued his mind before.

Though, as he continues on walking he is pleasantly surprised to find that on the street of Leacroft Avenue, a familiar house still stands.

Standing directly in-front of the pathway that leads up the porch of the slightly run down house, Zayn can't help but feel some form of relief. It's odd. With his hands in his pockets, he continues to only stare at the home in front of him. The railing of the porch on one side is gone, leaving behind rust stains on the wooden stairs as the only evidence it was ever even there. The screen-door to the house is broken with a large hole cut into the screen lining. The white paint coating the house has began to chip off, revealing the ugly brown wooden foundation of the house. It's all so familiar.

The sight brings him an odd sense of comfort.

Hesitating, Zayn takes in a shaky breath before he's marching forward. He trails up the raggedly porch, each step providing him with a a loud creaking sound that he should find rather worrying. Upon reaching the screen door he pauses, he knows once he knocks there is no going back and the thought is a bit frightening. He shouldn't be here, this is the last place he should be but right now his mind keeps spinning pictures of hazel brown and tan skin stained with blood. It's all too much. Shaking his head, he balls his fist and knocks on the door.

On the other side of the door, it's silent with no movement to be heard. He's just beginning to think that maybe the place is abandoned when heavy footsteps thread towards the front door. Rather quickly, the front door is thrown open in a manner that startles Zayn. "What do you want?" A voice snaps as he's met with a man no older than himself. With his heart rate picking up slightly at the thought of someone else now living here instead, Zayn makes an attempt at finding his words "I-" he begins but can't think of anything to say past it.

"Wait a damn second, Zayn Malik?" The man asks, almost in confusion as he cracks open the screen door as well to get a good look at Zayn.

In doing so, Zayn also manages to get a rather good look of the man too. The first thing he notices is that the man is of a short build, with shaggy blonde hair mostly covering his green eyes. He’s dressed in a white wife beater and black jogging pants, a signature look of his.

Sighing with relief Zayn nods his head, "Yeah, it's me Dave." He confirms once he's able to also realize who he's talking to. "Well, I'll be damned. What brings you over here?" The man questions, opening the door wide enough for Zayn to step inside. The raven haired man accepts the invitation, stepping inside almost immediately.   
  
  


"I was uh, in the city and I could really use something, ya know, if you got it." He mumbles awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head.

Dave eyes him almost in a suspicious manner before finally nodding his head, "Yeah I got something for ya," he says, lightly patting Zayn's shoulder before heading into the next room over. Like a lost puppy, Zayn follows behind him.

He recognizes the room as the living room, though it's poorly accommodated. There's only an old and worn sofa paired with an equally worn coffee table in the room. There are sheets draped over the windows and the only light source seems to be from a broken lamp that sits in the corner of the room. "Got something new yesterday, it's good shit." Dave promises as he heads over to the coffee table. He bends down to reach under and retrieve a shoe box.

Zayn watches him open the box and pull out a baggy filled with white glittery powder, all while he begins to shrug off his coat. "What is it?" He questions making his way over to the sofa and sitting with his coat resting in his lap. "Hell if I know, I just know the shit works like fucking magic." Dave chuckles as he pulls out a small metal tray from the box as well before setting it down on the coffee table.

Zayn nods his head slowly, rationally he knows that the last thing he should do is take something when he doesn’t even know what it is but oddly enough he throws rationality out the window. He trusts Dave, he shouldn’t, but he does and that’s enough for him.

With Zayn’s eyes starting at him curiously, Dave empties the smallest trail onto the metal tray before adding another. After, he zips up the baggy before tossing it back into the shoe box. “I would ask you how you been, but seeing as you’re here it can’t be too good.” Dave makes small talk as he uses a small card to chalk up skinny lines of the powder. “Things were fine, until I came back here.” Zayn shakes his head before running a hand over his face. What was he doing here anyway?

“Sorry to hear that man, well I guess I finally get to pay you back after all them years, huh?” Dave smiles in a way that makes Zayn snort, “Yeah right, you know damn well you’re gonna be in debt with me until the day you die.” He points out jokingly. Dave laughs, “Had to at least try, right?” He hums before standing from his bending position. He flops down onto the sofa next to Zayn with a small huff. “Go ahead, give it a try.”

Dave makes a motion towards the tray. Zayn gives a soft hum before he's leaning forward, hunching over slightly so that he comes face to face with the line of powder.

As he stares at the white substance, he catches a glimpse of his own reflection in the reflective surface of the tray.

He looks a mess by all means. His eyes are bloodshot and puffy, his skin is a shade or two lighter and all around he just looks sick. Without a second thought, he dives forward while pressing down on one side of his nose.

He snorts up the white powder with ease, throwing his head back as his mouth falls open slightly.

He feels the effects almost immediately as his body falls limp against the couch within a matter of minutes. He sniffles softly before staring up at the ceiling. “It hit different right?” Dave chuckles beside him and oddly enough the man sounds as if his voice was bouncing along the walls. Involuntarily, Zayn slumps over on the sofa, his vision slowly beginning to spot. “What was that?” He questions for a second time, his words coming out slow and slurred.

“You’ll be alright.” Dave says instead, patting Zayn on the shoulder for a moment before he’s leaning forward himself to snort the second line. “I don’t—I don’t think I feel good.” Zayn slurs before his eyelids grow far too heavy and fall closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: DRUG USE.
> 
> So this is by far my least favorite chapter ever, I keep promising that the chapters will get better but they're actually getting worse lmao. This time though I SWEAR it's going to start getting good. Now that we've got all the feelings stuff out the way for now, we can start answering some questions.


	7. you're an idiot with a death wish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually pretty disappointed with the timing of this chapter, I really wanted to knock out at least three chapters during my break but some stuff happened and I haven't had much time to really focus on this story, but on a good note I do have the next five chapters outlined and for the most part planned out which will hopefully ensure for a faster update.

_ **2:20am** _

_ **United Kingdom, Wolverhampton** _

When Zayn finally comes to, he finds himself buried in the folds of a heavy white comforter combined with the weight of several layers of incredibly soft blankets that all seem to be swallowing him whole. He doesn't get the chance to take in his surroundings much before his eyes are involuntarily falling closed again. His eyelids feel strangely heavy, and he can't find the energy to fight to keep them open at the moment. Sleep tugs at the corners of his mind, warm and inviting as it sneaks its way to the forefront's of his mind where it then takes over completely, and he can't think of a reason to fight it.

-

Zayn isn't sure how much time has passed when he wakes up the second around, all that he knows is that what could only be described as silk bed sheets, have began to stick against his sweat coated skin in the most uncomfortable of ways and he feels like he's drowning in the sea of blankets that engulf him.

To escape the feeling, he finds himself rolling his body over against the foreign mattress. Grouchily, he manages to find some strength that allows him to peel the heavy comforter off of himself, though the same can't be said for the blankets. He grumbles quietly and incoherently to himself as he attempts to recognize where he is, doing so all without opening his eyes and solely by touch alone. The task is proven difficult, though that doesn't mean he stops trying. So far he can only tell that the bed he's currently residing in isn't his own, because it's far too soft and big to be his own.

Not to mention the fact that it literally feels like he's lying on a cloud while the twin sized bed back home feels just a step up from a rock.

For a moment, sleep begins to pull him back under. His breaths start to peter out as he all but melts into the memory foam of the mattress, and he's nearly back asleep when an unexpected voice cuts through the silence of the room.

"No, not tonight, cancel the meet. There's too much going on right now, I think we should fall back a bit because the last thing I want is for us is to take another hit. Just give me a bit of time to figure some shit out but in the meantime, keep digging up whatever it is that you can get your damn hands on, got it? Alright, I'll be in touch." The voice is paired with the shuffling of shoes against hard wood floor before the click of a cellphone is soon to follow.

Zayn would be an idiot if he couldn't tell by now that the voice he just heard belonged to Liam.

With that realization dawning on him in a rather sobering moment, it isn't long until he begins to piece together just where he is. If it was Liam's voice that he just heard, that would imply that the bed he's currently residing in would essentially belong to Liam as well. Which would also mean that he's in Liam's house. Zayn doesn't remember much of the night but he certainly doesn't remember coming to Liam's place. Even then, logically he knows that if anything, this is probably the last place he would ever step foot, high off his ass or not. With that said, he's brought to the conclusion that he didn't come here exactly voluntarily.

Suddenly, irritation courses hot in his veins like it never has before. Although his mind is tangled in a cloudy haze where things are taking a bit longer to process, he's more than sure that he's pissed and at Liam no less.

He tries his best not to jump to conclusions, with memories of the night a bit foggy in his mind, and with the fact that he can't remember certain parts of it past him showing up on David Lahey's doorstep. It's not like the rest of his memories make an effort to resurface either. But this is Liam after all, and with that knowledge alone he's sure Liam did something that he won't like.

Shifting once again in what he has learned is Liam's bed, Zayn decides that it's probably in his best interest not to pretend to be sleep anymore. God knows the last thing that he'd want to do is stay in Liam's space longer than absolutely necessary. Slowly, he forces his eyes open, the action feels more taxing than it should. He takes a moment to stare at the ceiling, watching how both lights and shadows alike from outside filter across in a way that almost appears like a game of tag. It takes him all of a few minutes of just starring at the ceiling to realize that this isn't Liam's old bedroom.

Of course it makes sense though, why would he still be living in that small two bedroom house with his mother and father when he was a grown twenty-five year old man?

While it did make sense, it left an odd feeling in his chest. He isn't even sure what to call the feeling, resentment? Maybe. Indignation? That's a possibility too.

Abandoned? As stupid as it sounds, that word seems to be the one that really fits the way he's feeling right about now. He isn't sure why though, he's the one who left after all, yet here he is feeling like Liam has some how left him. It's weird and doesn't make sense to him in the slightest. Mentally shaking his head Zayn manages to sit up in bed, immediately feeling dizzy and sluggish at the sudden movement.

The raven haired man brings a hand up to rub at his temple as he squeezes his eyes closed as well to help with the sudden rush of blood to his head.

He bites back a groan as a kaleidoscope of emotions all but bombard him in relentless waves. He finds himself feeling upset and confused with an oddly deep sadness looming over him in a way that forces his shoulders to to sag with the brunt of unknown weight. Though, what he finds to be the scariest emotion of all is the overwhelming feeling of sudden loss that all but compels him. Aside from an explanation for these emotions, Zayn knows what this is, he's experienced it too many times by now that it's almost impossible to not know what's happening. Without a doubt, he's coming down from a high. Only problem is, he's coming down so fast that everything is hitting him harder than he can actually process forcing up this backlog of emotions to rear their ugly heads.

"Oh, you're finally awake."

The sound of Liam's voice comes in clear through his small haze of emotions and the man sounds anything but happy.

Zayn takes his time in rubbing at his temple with his eyes screwed shut, only delaying having to truly face Liam by a few minutes.

But when he doesn't respond, the sound of footsteps grow closer to the bed and when he finally does gain the courage to look up, he's met with fierce brown eyes staring down at him. For a moment they are both silent and Zayn isn't even sure where to begin. Liam looks almost as angry as he had expected to find him if not, even angrier, with a certain spark that Zayn couldn't describe burning bright in those brown eyes. "Are you fucking stupid?" Liam finally snaps after what felt like ever lasting silence, his tone sharp and cruel. Zayn can only blink up at him sluggishly as he tries to collect his own thoughts properly before blurting the first thing that comes to mind, "Why am I in your bed?"

He doesn't realize just how stupid the question is in the given situation until it's actually out his mouth and Liam is shooting him a look that all but screams 'you can't be serious'.

"Iisus Khristos, ya khochu ubit' tebya inogda." Liam mutters out angrily in Russian, bringing a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes in clear frustration.

Zayn is still so out of it that he can't even translate what Liam says, the man's words being too rapid and accent too heavy.

"You're in my bed because you're an idiot with a death wish." The brunette says with a tone of annoyance. Zayn can’t exactly remember much past showing up at David’s place but he can put two and two together. David was the only local supplier, besides Liam, that Zayn knew and could sort of trust. Though he guesses that probably isn’t still true but in his defense he wasn’t in the best of mindsets. He was angry with Liam, upset with his mom, and even pissed at himself. He had only wanted a release, a distraction.

“You do the dumbest shit sometimes you know? I tried to talk to you, calmly and even offered you helped but what do you do? You get mad and run away like a little bitch.” Liam raves, sounding more upset than he had any right being. “Shut the fuck up.” Zayn snaps, titling his head so that he could glare up at Liam. “Nobody fucking asked you to come get me, you don’t have any fucking right to past judgement on me. How the fuck did you even know where I’d be?” Zayn questions, eyeing Liam in an almost suspicious manner. Liam for his part, keeps his lips sealed and jaw clenched tightly. For a moment Zayn is almost positive the man won’t be giving him an answer but surprisingly he does speak. “There’s not a lot of places you do go when you get upset, I know you Zayn, I know you like I know the back of my hand, if not, better.” Liam states and Zayn can feel a lump forming in his throat before he’s looking away from Liam and shaking his head. “You don’t know me, not anymore.” He denies, eyes trained on the small black blanket pooling in his lap. “No, I do know you Zayn and I always will, I just don’t fucking get you.” Liam insists but Zayn can’t bring himself to spare him a glance. “I don’t get how you can be mad at me for something you and I both know I didn’t do, you know me Zayn, you know I’d never intentionally put Xavier in danger, never, yet you’re so persistent in making me the bad guy of this situation like

I get it, I’m anything but a saint, but this is Xavier we’re talking about. I loved that kid almost as much as you did.” Liam continues and for a moment Zayn thinks he can hear a small tremble in Liam’s voice, like for a split second the man stumbled on his words but it’s so unlike Liam that he brushes it off and quickly dismisses the thought.

Instead he feels his chest become tight with that familiar ache and his nose begins to tingle a bit while his eyes sting.

“Just like you loved Josh, huh? Just like you’d never intentionally put Josh in danger right?” Zayn chuckles bitterly as a tear finally makes its way down his cheek. “Am I right? Am I right, Liam? You loved him like you loved Josh!?” He shouts as he looks back up at Liam, tears openly falling down his face. Liam looks taken back by the response, his eyebrows drawn together tightly and lips pulled downward in a deep frown. “Don’t try to spiel that bullshit to me Liam, all I want is the truth. For once in your life, just once, can you be honest with someone? Did you kill Josh?” The raven haired man finally asks the question that has been rolling around his head since he first heard about it. He needs to hear it, he needs to hear it from Liam himself if he’s ever going to come to peace with it.

For a long moment Liam is quiet, Zayn has noticed that it has become a constant thing that the man does where he actually thinks before speaking. Something that he has probably perfected over these past five years because god knows Liam never thought before he spoke back in the day. “Yeah, I killed him. But it’s not like that, you don’t know the full story Zayn.” The brunette claims and Zayn can feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach. “Oh my god..” he mumbles feeling sick. Although he was pretty sure before that Liam had done it, it feels different actually hearing the confession from Liam himself. It almost feels like him saying it makes it more real than it initially was on its own.

Liam murdered their childhood best friend, and with the way he’s talking about it, it almost seems like he has no remorse for doing so.

“Zayn listen to me, let me explain.” Liam begins in a calm tone and it almost sends shivers down his spine. The fact that he could be so casual about this all only makes Zayn feel even worse. This was the man that he loved, the man that he gave his body to, the man who he introduced to his mother and sisters, the man who he told all his dreams and aspirations in life to. And if Zayn’s being honest, he didn’t blame Liam as much for Xavier’s death as he did himself. It took him a while to realize this and by the time he did, he had already spent so much time hating Liam that it was almost second nature. But this? This was different.

The only one to blame here was Liam.

Suddenly a hand is placed on his shoulder and Zayn flinches at the touch, “If you’d just let me explain, you’d understand.” Liam tries again but Zayn shakes his head. “Do you hear the way you sound? You’re trying to justify killing our bestfriend, Liam. Are you fucking sick? Has the power finally gone to your head? What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” Zayn asks with his voice breaking. He looks up at Liam, hazel eyes brimmed with new tears and expression completely devastated.

“You don’t understand Zayn, just listen.” Liam all but pleads, and Zayn listens. He falls silent as he stares at Liam expectantly and waits for the man to begin explaining himself. Liam is just opening his mouth to do exactly that when his phone begins ringing in the pocket of his sweat pants. Huffing a breath, the man reaches into his pocket and quickly declines the call with two presses of the power button before carrying on. “The thing about Josh is—“ he doesn’t get to finish because his phone is going off once more and cuts him off promptly.

With an annoyed expression, Liam retrieves the phone from his pocket and answers with a snappish, “What?”

Within minutes Liam’s entire demeanor changes. His face goes stone hard and his lips are pulled back in a tight frown. He doesn’t say much more than, “I’m on my way.” Before hanging up. When his eyes track over to Zayn, Zayn can’t help but feel a small spark of fear for some odd reason. “Get up, I’m taking you home.” Is the only information he offers before he’s walking away from Zayn with his shoulders stiff and posture rigid.

For once, Zayn doesn’t have to be told twice.

-

_ **4:20am** _

_ **United Kingdom, Wolverhampton** _

Attempting to be as silent as possible, Zayn slowly closes the front door behind himself.

He feels absolutely drained from the night he’s had, his high had all but worn off hours ago and now he’s left feeling like a ghost in the shell of his former self, or in other words, numb.

Liam left him with more questions than answers and it’s all beginning to become frustrating. The man had been so damn adamant on explaining why he did what he did just to completely shut down after the phone call he received. The entire car ride here was done so in silence, with a certain tension in the air that even Zayn bit his tongue. It didn’t add up. What could have rattled Liam so bad?

And why did he kill Josh?

Nearly jumping out his skin when he turns around only to find Waliyha sitting on the couch, Zayn places a hand to his heart. “What the fuck is up with everyone and scaring me lately?” He hisses, trying to calm down his racing heart. Waliyha doesn’t even entertain the train of conversation as she stares at him with tired eyes, “Where were you?” She asks.

Shrugging off his coat, Zayn places it back on the coat rack before he’s kicking off his shoes as well. “I went for a walk.” He claims and it’s

a poor lie, they both know he can do better. “Really? A walk? You’ve been gone since ten this morning,” the girl sends him a flat look. “So tell me where you really were Zayn.” She all but badgers and Zayn can’t help but roll his eyes. “Alright, so what? I was gone since ten, what does where I was have anything to do with it?” He questions, already annoyed and frustrated from his time spent with Liam. Waliyha wasn’t making things and easier.

The girl in question scoffs, “Are you serious right now you asshole? You had us fucking worried! There are literally people watching our house Zayn, watching our house, yet you think it’s perfectly okay to disappear for a few hours without even taking your phone with you? Jesus Christ, Zayn.” Waliyha whisper shouts at him as she stands from her seat to meet him head on. “Look, what I have going on, you guys don’t need to worry about okay? I got it handled.” He claims with a hard expression making its way across his features. Waliyha only scoffs at him again, “Do you seriously hear yourself? You don’t have shit handled because you’re too busy with your head up Liam’s ass! You haven’t even found your friend because you’re so busy worrying about him!” The girl cries out. “I’m trying okay?! Can you give me a fucking break!? It’s not like I have much to go off! Fuck!” Zayn hisses at the girl, anger clear in his tone.

“At least I am doing something, you’ve got no fucking right to check me. You’re a child.” He continues with a sneer taking over his face as he glares at the raven haired girl. It seems to shut her up for the time being because Waliyha doesn’t say another words. She only grits her teeth and glares back.

“You don’t know everything that’s going on and you don’t know who factors into what so chill the fuck out and watch who you’re talking to.” He concludes before walking past her. “I’m going to bed, goodnight, don’t forget to lock up.” Are his parting words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, finally we make some headway. So I’m pretty sure you guys have a ton of questions and all that I can say is that they will be answered sooner than later, I promise. Also do you guys think Zayn was justified digging into Waliyha the way he did? Was Waliyha kinda right?


	8. what the fuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this chapter was a literal bitch to write and I still hate it.

_ **12:40 pm** _

_ **United Kingdom, Wolverhampton** _

-

"Where were you last night?" Zayn has to resist an eye roll at the question as he goes about continuing his bowl of cereal, choosing to ignore the question in favor of proceeding with his so far peaceful afternoon. The man only looks up when Diego flops down into the seat across from him, in a way that makes it rather hard to ignore him. "I went to see an old friend." He responds dryly, and it's not technically a lie because David was an old friend after all. "Really? I call bullshit." The young Hispanic male claims and Zayn can feel his eyes boring into his face. Sighing deeply, Zayn actually does roll his eyes the second time around, "Can I go a fucking second without someone in this house questioning me? Jesus fucking Christ." He mumbles mostly to himself. He already felt bad for the way he had dug into Waliyha last night, the last thing he wanted was to upset Diego but with the way things have been looking, he's not all too in control of what he says as of late.

"Look, I don't know what happened between you and that guy from yesterday, but I do know whatever he did or said upset you," Diego begins and Zayn wonders just what exactly he's getting at. With a small huff of air, he drops his spoon into the bowl of cereal with a loud clink and leans back in his chair as he stares at Diego expectantly, going as far as to cross his arms over his chest as well to further display his impatience and annoyance. "Just give it to me straight, does he know anything about Mila? Was he in on it?" The question nearly gives Zayn pause before he's barking out a small fit of hysterical laugh. He does manage to calm himself down fairly quickly, and by then he's standing from his seat at the kitchen table with small hints of a dying laugh still falling from his lips, "You couldn't be further off, but thanks for reminding me that I wasn't hungry anyway." He emphasizes the fact that the current conversation has cost him his appetite while he shakes his head, almost in a fond manner, before he picks up his bowl and discards it into the sink bed.

The raven-haired man is just about to exit the kitchen when Diego quickly stands from his seat before moving to take hold of his left wrist, stopping him for the moment, "Wait, Zayn, I'm sorry for assuming, I'm just starting to get real worried, you know?" Diego explains awkwardly, dropping Zayn's wrist when he's met with a warning look in response to the contact. "_Look_," Zayn starts in the way Diego had just done himself, "If anything new comes up about Mila, you'll be the first I tell." He promises.

With the understanding re-established between them both, Diego nods his head, seemingly satisfied with the information presented. "Now, you need to go home. I know you want to stay and help look for leads on Mila but by doing that you're only unintentionally putting a target on Javi, one we don't need right now." Zayn responds though Diego's protest starts up almost immediately. "You know I can't—" Diego begins to come up with an excuse but Zayn cuts him off.

"Do you trust me?"

The question prompts hesitation on Diego's end and Zayn watches as the other man's shoulders sag slightly and his mouth snaps shut. "Do you trust me, Diego?" He repeats the question for a second time. "Yes, of course, I trust you." Diego finally answers, though not without trouble, Zayn can see it in the way his jaw visibly clenches tight and his lips fall downward into a deep-set frown. His words ignite a sense of pride in Zayn, he felt almost honored in a sense that Diego trusted him because he knew it was something that wasn't so easy for him to do. "Then let me worry about Mila, you handle Javi and make sure he's not causing any trouble back in Bradford, okay? We also can't afford another day without business, so when you do get back go buy some product from the Russos. I want you back on the streets selling like nothing happened, we're business as usual, got it?" Zayn manages all in one breath, Diego for his part looks to be against it all but oddly enough still nods his head. He probably knew that it wasn't in anyone's best interest to fight Zayn on this one.

"We don't need them to think that they've got anything over on us." He adds shortly after when the thought happens to cross his mind.

"Yeah, I don't suppose that would work out in our favor." Diego voices his agreement though there is still an edge of reluctance, it has Zayn eyeing him for a moment because he knew there was more Diego wanted to say. "I just don't want to leave this all on you, ya know? She is my little sister, after all, I feel responsible." He mumbles almost dejectedly. "Don't think about it that way, I'm the one who got her in this mess in the first place. The least I can do is fix things." Zayn brushes off. Diego still looks hesitant to accept but doesn't move to further vocalize his concerns. Zayn takes it as a good sign.

-

_ **4:15pm** _

_ **Untied Kingdom, Wolverhampton** _

"So, a little birdie told me you lashed out on her last night."

Zayn takes a deep breath of air before exhaling long and hard. He doesn't so much as glance in his sister's direction, which happens to currently be in the doorway of his bedroom, as he goes about typing on his mother's laptop. He was currently handling some transactions in Bradford that couldn't exactly be done over the phone, most of them being bills. Apparently, life doesn't stop for anyone no matter who got kidnapped or whose life was on the line. "Hmm, that's interesting, I didn't know birds could talk." He responds dryly before finally looking up.

He finds Doniya leaning against his doorframe, her arms crossed in a lax manner. He can tell she just got here, straight from work because of the fancy pants suit and neat bun on her head. "Ha ha ha, asshole. Very funny." She rolls her eyes but there's a small smile ghosting at her lips so Zayn doesn't think there's too much weight behind it. "But seriously, what's going on? It's not like you to lash out on Waliyha like that." The woman questions as she pushes up off the door frame and enters the bedroom fully. Zayn only shakes his head, gaze averting back to the computer screen in front of him.

He wasn't quite in the mood for talking as of right now.

"Oh come on Zayn," The woman says with a huff as she takes a seat at the end of the bed, causing the mattress to dip slightly under her weight. "Talk to me." She adds and he can hear the pout in her tone. Glaring at the screen, Zayn presses numbers on the keyboard a bit more aggressively. "I don't want to talk Doniya." He says in a strained tone, though part of him knew it was of no use because not even seconds later Doniya is reaching forward and slamming the laptop closed just barely missing his fingers. Zayn is quick to turn his glare onto his older sister, a scowl taking root on his face.

"What the fuck?" He snaps in annoyance.

Doniya only fixes him with a motherly stare and it reminds him so much of when they were younger that he nearly pauses. "You and I both know that I'm not one to pry on things, but the last time I didn't push to get information out of you, you ran away for five years and never came back." She breathes out in a way that a tired parent would and for a moment, just a moment, she looks older than she should. It causes a strong feeling of guilt to gnaw at his insides. He hated seeing her like this and her words didn't exactly help. The last thing that he wanted was for his shit to start affecting her.

Taking a small breath, Zayn brings his hands up to rub at his face. "There isn't much to say alright? She kept pushing and I told her to quit it but she kept on like she always does and I snapped at her." He explains. For a moment Doniya is silent, staring at him with a puzzled expression before she's letting out a loud laugh.In turn, Zayn is soon the one giving his sister a puzzling look. "Wow, of course." She shakes her head in amusement once she actually stops laughing.

"The way Waliyha told it, made it seem like it was something serious that you two fought about but of course drama queen exaggerated." She says with a fond smile playing at her lips. "I don't know why I expected anything less of her." She adds shortly after and Zayn couldn't have agreed more. "But she also did have a point." And this is the part where he checks out of the conversation.

Almost as if reading his mind, Doniya flicks his arm. "You were gone for how many hours Zayn? How do you expect for her not to be the least bit concerned?" Doniya questions, brown eyes boring into the side of his face because he refuses to look her in the eyes. "What are you? Devil's advocate? I thought you were on my side here." He mumbles as his frown from before returns. "Woah, I'm not on anyone's side." She insists with another shake of her head. "I'm just trying to understand both sides of things." She makes sure to add.

Sighing again, Zayn finally looks to meet Doniya's gaze. "There's not much to understand about it. I got home late and she was grilling me, so I snapped. Sure, I was a bit harsh but she needs to learn to stop pushing for shit when someone tells her to." He shrugs his shoulders. Doniya stares at him for a while after he finishes speaking, as if trying to figure out if he's lying or not without directly coming out and asking. Thankfully, Zayn isn't under her scrutiny for much longer before she breaks the stare and sighs. "What am I going to do with you two?" She asks with the faintest hint of amusement.

"It's just like when you two were kids, you'd always come running to me complaining about how Wally asks too many questions and talks too much." She reminisces with a soft expression, one that he can't place. "Well I guess it's not just like anymore, right? Not since you don't come to me anymore." She corrects herself shortly after, face falling into something sad and the expression has him feeling another peg of guilt tight in his chest. He knew that his recent actions had caused his sister a rather large sum of grief seeing as she had helped in raising him despite still being a kid herself. Of course it would hurt her to see him distancing himself from not just their family but her too. Although it pains him, Zayn stays silent and averts his gaze again. 

As if he can just sense Doniya's disappointment, he shifts awkwardly under her gaze. He isn't sure what she wants or expects him to say after her small confession. Zayn was never good with his words or dealing with feelings, he always ended trapped in his thoughts and zoning out of the conversation. Doniya must have known this because when he does look back to her, her expression is the same. It's a soft one with her eyebrows pulling together in a way that causes small winkles against her forehead and for her eyes to cast down in a sad way.

"I get it, you don't want to talk to me about your stuff," She begins but Zayn can tell she wants to say more and so she continues. "But all that I'm asking is for you not to push us away, okay? Just not anymore. You see how fast things can go bad and I don't want to regret not having you in my life because you feel like that's the best option." She finishes and Zayn feels terrible. "It's not like that." He shakes his head in an attempt to explain himself. "It's not that I don't want to tell you, it's just I don't know how or where to even begin." He adds shortly after, bringing a hand up to run through his hair.

"And if I'm honest, Idon't think I'm ready to tell you either."

His words seem to take a bit longer than expected for Doniya to register properly because for a while, the woman is silent and slowly blinking at him. Though she does finally break the stare, nodding her head in understandment. "I think I get it. I don't like that you feel you can't tell me but I respect and understand that." She mumbles, moving a hand to gently pat at his own before she's standing up from the bed. "But I meant what I said, don't push us away. We love you and we worry about you, even if Waliyha isn't very good at expressing it." She says as she begins towards the door. Nodding his head, Zayn watches as the older girl leaves out the room, closing the door behind herself.

He lets out a breath that he didn't know he was holding once he's left to the solitude of his bedroom. He hadn't been expecting to have such a deep conversation so soon after the train wreck of a night he just spent with Liam. It was rather draining and he felt right back at square one with everything. Just when it felt like he was making progress, and pushing things back down Doniya come waltzing in and making him feel like an absolute piece of shit brother. Shaking his head to get out of his thoughts, Zayn returns his attention to the laptop which is still resting in his lap.

Unfortunately before he can turn it back on, his phone buzzes loudly beside him. Frowning, he picks up the device and brings the screen to life with a click of the power button. What flashed across the screen as him all but leaping out of bed and searching for his hoodie along with a pair of shoes.

On the screen reads a text message from Harry.

'_Got a hit, meet me at that café in Birmingham_.' It reads.

-

_ **5:50pm** _

_ **United Kingdom, Birmingham** _

Zayn reaches the café in record time, though he's more than positive he broke a few laws getting there so soon. He doesn't waste time in ripping his seatbelt off and quite literally flinging himself from the car though. He ignores the tiny droplets of rain that hit his skin as he walks to the entrance of the café. Overhead, the bell chimes, announcing his presence. He spots Harry at the table they sat at before, and rushes over without much thought.

As he takes a seat at the table he can't help but eye the laptop that sits in front of Harry, but facing away from him. Impatiently his leg bounces under the table before his eyes all but shoot to meet Harry's. "What did you find?" He blurts out in a rushed tone. Harry stares at him for a moment, a brunette eyebrow arched in question, as if surveying how much of a mess he actually looked. “You good?” The man questions and Zayn just might strangle him today. “No I’m not okay, just fucking tell me what you got.” He snaps with a scowl taking over his face at the dumb question. He didn’t understand why Harry was stalling, but it was starting to really piss him off.

“Alright, alright. Calm down.” Harry rolls his eyes before he’s pressing keys on the keyboard.

Waiting for Harry feels like an eternity. Zayn tries to busy himself with looking outside the window, leg still bouncing almost near rapidly. Outside the sky is gloomy with clouds hiding the afternoon sun. Rain drizzles in small but rapid droplets, paving the sidewalk in wetness that expands across the tan cement turning it grey. He finds the scene causing a certain uneasiness to spread throughout his body like a sore ache that he can’t soothe.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry speaks up. “Okay look, I don't know who you got involved with Zayn, but whoever it is, they've got friends in some high places." He begins and before Zayn can even ask what he means by that, the brunette continues. "I can't even tell you how many strings I had to pull _just_ to get my hands on this." The brunette sighs almost as if he had disappointed himself, though the reaction is enough to have Zayn's stomach turning. Harry had always been good at getting information so to hear that even he struggled to get this must mean that things are worse than he had anticipated.

Frowning deeply Harry’s words, Zayn accepts the laptop when it's slid across the table to him. As he brings himself to look at the screen, he finds a video in front of him. The video is slightly grainy with an angle from high up as if taken from a security camera. Slowly, he reaches a hand forward and clicks play.

He watches the video attentively, preparing himself for the worse as each second passes on the time stamp in the corner of the video. Oddly enough the time continues to speed by without so much as a sign of Mila appearing. For a second he glances away from the laptop and to Harry in question but the man only motions for him to turn his attention back into the video with a slight nod of his head. Sighing, Zayn does look back to the video and seemingly at the right moment because there Mila is in frame.

His heart nearly stops as he stares at the grainy image, but it is her.

He watches the video in silence, heart dropping to the pit of his stomach as he watches the scene unfold. His mouth feels dry and it feels a bit harder to breathe. With his eyebrows furrowing in confusion and angry as the video comes to an end, Zayn rewinds it with a hard press of the mouse. This couldn’t be real. As he rewinds it a second time and then a third and then a fourth, Zayn finally looks up to Harry. “What the fuck?” He questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH CLIFFHANGER!!! Okay but from here, we will be picking up the pace a bit and we’re only a few chapters away from some actual Ziam interaction without Zayn being so bitchy and Liam being so well Liam. Also we will be learning more about both Xavier and Josh very soon so yayyyy that and lastly, Happy Valentine’s Day!!!


	9. i'm not helping you with shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Chapter 8 was a total flop lmao, and this chapter took a million years because real life started to straight-up beat my ass and yeah.
> 
> Update: Wow so who knew being on quarantine would actually diminish my motivation to write? Lmao crazy. Anyways, a bitch might actually have corona and self-isolation absolutely sucks when all you want is for someone to hug and baby you🥺 so I'm forcing a chapter out to distract myself.

_-_   
** _6:15 pm_ **   
** _United Kingdom, Birmingham_ **

"What the fuck?" Zayn repeats the same question in a louder tone of volume as if Harry hadn't heard it, alongside the entire café, the first time he said it. Almost instantly he tilts his head up to face Harry, his intense brown eyes locking with Harry's own. "Could you be any louder?" Harry hisses lowly in a scolding tone that has Zayn glaring at him with an expression of aggravation. Harry only huffs a deep breath and rolls his eyes before looking around a bit as if to make sure there was no one listening in on their conversation. He only speaks once he's sure no one is paying their table attention anymore. "I had the same reaction when I first watched it too, I was hoping you could explain to me what it is exactly that just happened." He adds, folding his arms over his chest as he leans back in his seat in an attempt to get more comfortable. Zayn can only shake his head.

"I honestly don't fucking know, this has to be fake or altered at the least because there is no fucking way." He claims clearly in denial, still shaking his head like it made the video any less plausible.

"Really?" Harry questions, expression drawn into something almost resembling amusement, Zayn doesn't think for a moment that any of it is genuine. "Because to me, it looks like-" he doesn't get to finish his sentence before Zayn cuts him off hastily, "I know how it looks, but I'm telling you, it's _not_ like that." He all but swears defensively with as much conviction as he can muster, but if he's being honest, he isn't too sure himself anymore. "It's not? Well then, please do enlighten me. Because from where I'm sitting it looks like I just wasted my time and resources looking for someone who, by the looks of that video, left more than willingly." Harry shoots Zayn a cold look, the facade of amusement now long gone and replaced by something of a stony nature, Zayn isn't sure what to even call the expression. Disappointment seems relatively close but so does annoyance and anger. Though all around, Harry just looks upset with him, like he expected more and Zayn didn't exceed his expectations which is honestly ridiculous because it's not like it's him, who fucking staged his own kidnapping.

Zayn stares hard at the laptop screen, chewing his bottom lip almost furiously as he searches for any indication as to why it looks like Mila left without a fight. "Can you fucking stop looking at me like I just lost the goddamn spelling bee, for fuck sakes!" He snaps in annoyance, hazel eyes tracking back to Harry with a certain rage boiling in them. "There's no way you're actually fucking mad at me for this bullshit." He adds not even a second later. Harry doesn't look fazed by him lashing out in the slightest, he only instead shakes his head, "Who said I was mad at you? Because I'm not. I'm just disappointed, is all. I had hoped that you would at least know the people you call your friends but apparently not seeing as you just sent me on a wild goose chase." Harry shrugs coldly before he's reaching an arm forward, grabbing for his cup of tea that Zayn hadn't even noticed at first. His words oddly feel like they have a double meaning to them but Zayn tries not to pry on that for too long.

"I do know Mila, I've known her since she was thirteen. This isn't something she would do. She tells her brothers everything, she tells me everything. There's no way.." Zayn continues to argue with a look of determination.

Harry only shakes his head but before he can voice his opinions, his phone buzzes against the table with an incoming call.

The two men glance down at the device at the same time before locking eyes once again. "I have to take this." Harry excuses himself before standing from the table and Zayn kisses his teeth in annoyance. "Harry, look—I just need you to—" he begins but Harry shakes his head. "No, until you get me an explanation as to what the fuck is on that tape, I'm not helping you with shit. I'm sorry but I've got too much stuff going on to be playing games." Harry states firmly and Zayn doesn't think there's any room for argument. Answering his phone, Harry walks away from the table leaving Zayn and the damn computer.

Huffing a breath of frustration, Zayn folds his arms on the table before laying his head down against them. He had been so excited when he got that text from Harry but now he regrets ever even looking at his phone.

It looked bad, _really _bad. The video started out slow, with a couple walking past with their fingers intertwined before there's a few minutes of nothing besides the movement of a few vehicles driving down the empty street to follow. It's probably fifteen minutes into the video before Mila even makes an experience, though when she does come into the frame you can tell it's obviously her. The girl is smiling at someone out of the camera's range, tugging at their hands as if trying to lead them forward. There's a brief moment where she talks to the person, but there's no audio and the video is too grainy to attempt reading her lips, before the mystery person finally steps forward.

It's a guy, he's tall and lean with dark hair that seems to be styled back in a messy quiff. Zayn wasn't able to make out any definitive features due to the video's shitty quality but there was an interesting tattoo peeking from behind the collar of his shirt as he wrapped an arm around Mila's shoulder. Zayn planned on looking more into it in a bit but for now, h needed time to process things. He could already feel a headache on its way. Between the conversation with Doniya earlier and the video of Mila all but happily leading her possible kidnapper to god knows where he felt overwhelmed.

He knew that coming home would be a mistake, there was a reason he avoided this place for so long after all, but he wasn't given too much of a choice in the matter.

His family was being indirectly threatened, anyone who knew Zayn knew that the one thing he cared about most was his family's safety. Of course, he would hightail his ass home if he was ever given any indication their safety was compromised. That thought brings up the question, could this have been done by someone he knows? And if so, who?

Liam is the first that comes to mind, but the more he thinks about it being him the less it makes sense.

Why would Liam wait this long to pull something like this? It's been five years and patience wasn't ever his strong suit. Besides, he didn't seem all too happy when he confronted Zayn about being here merely days ago and he was far too upset to be faking. So that excludes Liam from the list of suspects. Harry is the next in mind but of course, that doesn't last for long because he doesn't exactly have a motive.

Groaning to himself, Zayn raises his head from the fold of his arms only to startle in his seat when he finds someone standing over him.

"Sorry!" Niall cringes raising his hands in apology. "I didn't mean to scare you, I just noticed you've had your head down for the past twenty minutes and thought something might be wrong." The blonde explains, chewing at his bottom lip almost worriedly. Zayn releases a deep breath as he rubs at his face, fuck he scared the shit out of him. "I'm fine, I was just thinking, got lost in thought I guess." He brushes off before looking back to Niall, he notices the blonde staring at the laptop screen almost in interest. "That's a cool tattoo," he speaks up after a moment of silence, blue eyes making their way back to Zayn's direction. "Huh?" Zayn questions, a bit confused as to what Niall was talking about. "The dude on your laptop with the Russian tattoo, I mean, shit--sorry, I didn't mean to be nosy but it was just sitting right there." Niall curses slightly, his pale cheeks burning pink and Zayn finds it rather amusing.

No wonder Harry had a crush on him.

Though it would probably be best if Louis didn't find out about it because he would, sure enough, eat the poor boy alive if he were to.

"You know Russian?" Zayn finds himself questioning with his eyebrows raised. Niall shrugs at the question, "A little. I mean I'm not too good at writing it but I can understand a few words here and there though my pronunciation is shit." The young baker rambles a bit and Zayn nods his head, filing the information away for later. Niall clears his throat shortly after before motioning to the rather empty tabletop, "Is there anything I can get you?" He hums before grabbing Harry's abandoned cup of tea. "No, I'm fine--wait, shit, did Harry leave?" He can't help but scowl as he quickly turns in his seat to face the direction of the store's entrance, sure enough, Harry is not outside on his phone. "Yeah..." Niall answers awkwardly as he remains standing in the same spot. "That son of a bitch," Zayn grumbles mostly to himself as he turns back in his seat. "Are you sure?" Niall questions and Zayn can only nod his head, far too upset to muster up words. That fucking asshole.

Wordlessly, Niall heads away from the table, leaving Zayn with the frozen image of Mila with the guy's arm around her shoulder. He momentarily envisions himself picking the laptop up and smashing it to bits but thinks against because who would that help? It wouldn't change the fact that he has a list of ever-growing questions with no answers in sight. And it most definitely wouldn't help the fact that he just lost the help of the only person who was willing to give it. "Fuck me," he groans to himself.

-

** _9:10pm_ **

** _United Kingdom, Wolverhampton_ **

"Um, you good?" Waliyah questions with a frown as she enters the house with shopping bags along her wrist, immediately greeted by the sight of Zayn.

The man is sloughed against the couch, staring blankly ahead at the tv which wasn't even on.

"Yup, just peachy." He responds but Waliyah doesn't miss the sarcastic undertone in his voice. "Okay.."She says awkwardly as she continues towards her bedroom, she doesn't make it very far before guilt is practically tearing her apart on the inside. Even though she was still very pissed at her older brother, something was obviously wrong and she didn't want to turn a blind eye to his troubles. That's how he ended up running away the first time. "What's wrong?" She all but demands, turning on her heel to face him. Zayn only spares her a dejected look that makes her stomach turn, she's _never _in her life seen her brother look so defeated before.

"It's nothing Wally."

"Bullshit, spill or I'm calling Doniya." She threatens which prompts a sigh from Zayn.

"Harry found a video of Mila, from the looks of it she was not kidnapped and might even be in on all this. Harry is also refusing to help me continue searching for her unless I come up with an explanation for that video which I can't." He explains dryly and Waliyah can't help but cringe at the information. "Okay, first I would like to point out that I am in fact still upset with you," She begins as she moves towards the couch before taking a seat next to him, "But hey, don't lose hope now. I've seen you work with a lot less okay? You got this and you don't need anybody's help." She says confidently, placing a hand against his knee and gently squeezing it.

Zayn shakes his head, "I don't know, Wally... it doesn't feel like this is something I can do on my own." He admits for the first time since being home. The words feel odd on his tongue, he's always been so independent even as a child, asking for help is almost foreign to him. It was different with Harry though because in his mind he wasn't asking for help, the false pretense of a favor made it feel different than asking for help. He wasn't too sure what he was going to do at this point.

"Okay, I have a suggestion but you have to promise to actually consider it." The girl begins with a mildly concerning look. Zayn wasn't sure if he wanted to deal with his younger sister's antics at the moment. "That depends on what you're going to say." He warns, shooting her an odd look. The girl flashes him a smile that just spells trouble before squeezing his knee again, "Why don't you try asking, Liam?--And yes, I know--would you let me finish? Thank you, as I was saying, you don't have to like someone to ask them for help. Don't make this a pride thing Zayn--yes, you heard me, just try to put your feelings aside and ask him." She urges though tries her best not to seem like she's pushing it. Zayn rolls his eyes.

"You got any other ideas?" Zayn raises an eyebrow earning a flat look from his sister who was clearly not all too impressed with him.

He knew it was logical, Liam had more connections than either Harry or Zayn combined and probably wouldn't have that much trouble getting to the bottom of this.

But was Zayn ready to face Liam again? _Could _he face Liam again after everything he had said that night? The thought of asking Liam for anything makes him sick but what other choice did he have? If he continued on his own he wouldn't get very far due to his lack of resources. He needed the help, that much was obvious, but was Liam really his answer when all the man has done from the start was cause him more problems?

Kissing his teeth quietly, Zayn looks to his sister with tired eyes. "Is that really the best idea?" he questions receiving a shrug in response. "I don't hear you offering up any ideas." She sasses in return and he does suppose she has a point. "I guess." He agrees before turning back to the blank tv. "So what are you going to do?" She questions staring at him as if he were a puzzle she was trying to solve.

"I'm thinking."

-

** _11:40pm_ **

** _United Kingdom, Wolverhampton_ **

"This is a bad fucking idea." Zayn scoffs to himself as he takes another drag from his cigarette before dropping to the pavement and stepping on it with the tip of his boots.

Currently, Zayn found himself standing outside the apartment complex of where Liam's penthouse resides. His mother had given him the directions all too gleefully when he asked and he tried not to let the fact that his mother knew exactly where his ex lived bother him too much. Though standing before the building, he can't help but feel a deep sense of intimidation. He wasn't exactly sure where the feeling came from or why he felt it. Shaking his head, Zayn heads inside the revolving doors wordlessly.

The interior design of the building is rather flashy with a bright white paint coating the walls along with antique decor. The doorman flashes Zayn a smile and a nod of his head as Zayn walks over to the elevator, he tries his best to return it but his stomach feels uncomfortably tight. Once inside the elevator, Zayn pulls out the key he had also gotten from his mother before inserting it into the slot.

The ride up is painfully slow, leaving Zayn with just enough time to ponder on how bad of an idea this all is. He shouldn't be here, this was a mistake. He was an idiot for letting Waliyah talk him into this. Almost as if sensing his doubt, the elevator gives a soft _ding _before opening to reveal the layout of what he supposes is Liam's living room. The place is dark and relatively empty, the only light source seemingly the glow from the city that the wide windows showcase below along with the small streams of light falling through from the elevator.

Hesitantly Zayn steps out of the shaft, a frown growing on his face.

It didn't look like Liam was home.

Zayn is just taking another step when suddenly he's yanked to the side rather hard.

Before he can even find it in himself to question what just happened a hand wraps around his throat, pinning him to the now-closed elevator doors directly behind him, and the side of his head is met with the cold press of metal against it. With his heart thundering in his chest, Zayn gives a soft pant, hazel eyes blown open wide. He's scared to speak and rightly so because pressed against his head is a gun.

"How the fuck did you get up here?" A voice growls.

"I would tell you if you fucking let me go!"

"Shit! Zayn?, What the fuck are you doing here? I almost fucking shot you!" Liam hisses as he releases his hold on him before dropping the gun from his head altogether. Zayn rubs at his neck, shooting the outline of Liam a dark glare as he tries to ignore the small tent that had formed in his pants. So what, he had a thing for being choked, sue him. Feeling slightly embarrassed by his body's reaction, Zayn clears his throat with the tips of his ears all but burning. "I came to talk you fucking asshole." He answers, huffing a breath of annoyance. "At eleven at night? You couldn't have called?" Liam scoffs before muttering something low in Russian as he reaches to the side of the elevator's wall and hits the light switch.

Zayn can't help but close his eyes as bright lights flood the penthouse causing his head to ache slightly. "No, I needed to do this in person." He breathes before opening his eyes again to look at Liam, he notices that the man is only dressed in loose hanging sweats before he forces his eyes back up to Liam's face. The man in return shoots him an odd distrusting look, "What exactly do you _need to do_?" He questions almost in suspicion. "I need-" he begins before forcing him to swallow around the lump that forms in his throat. "I need to ask for something." He manages to say, jaw clenching immediately after his words are out. Liam sends him a look of both confusion and shock, "Interesnyy." The man smirks once he regains his composure. Zayn fights back a sneer.

"But first, I need you to tell me why you killed Josh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe, so here's an update that's long overdue. I hope you guys enjoy it and with that said be safe and stay inside!!


End file.
